All I Want
by rippingbutterflywings
Summary: After tragedy strikes and she loses a friend, Clary Fray doesn't know what to do. She signs up to help organize a music festival in her friend's honor, hoping to find some answers. In the process, she meets Jace Wayland, who not only lost the same person she did, but may also be the only person she can grieve with. Co-written with clarissadele. AU/AH/OOC.
1. When It Rains

_rippingbutterflywings: Hi, guys! So, this is my first collaboration, which I'm really excited about. The lovely clarissadele brought up the idea of writing a story together, and I've always wanted to write something with someone else, so we went for it. It's been awesome, to be honest. (We only have one chapter, but I feel like I can say that already.) I really am looking forward to exploring different themes with this story and stuff, so yay! I hope you like this chapter, and thank you for reading!_

_clarissadele: Hi, I'm clarissadele, previously 4everallways! I'm really exciting to be collaborating on this story and hope you all enjoy it! Reviews would make our day! Thanks!_

_**The characters in this story belong to Cassandra Clare**_

* * *

_And oh, oh, how could you do it?_

_Oh I, I never saw it coming  
__Oh, oh, I need the ending  
__So why can't you stay just long enough to explain?_

* * *

She felt the grains of sand dig into her bare thighs as she shifted into a comfortable position, looking out into the horizon. The sky was painted of the most vibrant colors, shades of purple and pink and orange that were so unbelievably beautiful she couldn't bring herself to paint them. She could only stare.

Clary's hair, which was the shade of the deepest shade of red in the sunset, continuously slapped her face as the wind blew it into different directions. Annoyed, she tied it up into a bun, wishing, for the first time, that it were shorter. She looked out as the sky became more blue and purple than its previous colors, saw as the darkness painted over the day and the moon hung itself up in the sky.

She wanted to move, but she couldn't. If she went inside the house, her mother would just bombard her with questions, and she couldn't take any more questions. She'd already taken enough from the last week of her senior year, with the furrowed brows and the overly concerned teachers who, despite everything, did not cancel finals.

Because a student's death is not, apparently, a good enough reason to stop testing.

She heard footsteps approaching, and her head snapped up as if it had a life of its own. It was just one of the boys who lived in one of the houses; she'd seen him many times before. Jace Wayland. Blonde and tall and so very beautiful. She knew that he had been friends with _him_, too.

She still couldn't bring herself to say his name before fearing that she would fall apart into a million jagged pieces.

She bit her lip and stood up; she'd been out for too long. Clary slipped her jacket back on and made her way inside the house, where her mother, brother, and stepfather were waiting for her.

Jocelyn Fray was the first one to look at her when she walked into the house. "Are you hungry?" she asked her daughter, wearing a too-tight smile on her face.

To please her mother, Clary nodded. "Did you make dinner?"

"The day Mom stops making dinner will be the day I move out," Jon said. "Hey, Clary. Where were you?" He gave her the _Mom was going crazy, so why didn't you come back earlier? _look. She rolled her eyes at her brother and took a plate from the cupboard.

"I was just outside, a couple of houses down."

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

She finished serving her food and nodded, following him into his room. Her mother used to be strict about the kids taking food to their bedrooms, but, since one of Clary's best friends died, Jocelyn decided that whether her kid ate in her bedroom or not was not exactly the most important thing in the universe.

Still, Clary snuck a glance at her, and she did not look pleased. Knowing she would not get scolded, though, she walked after her brother anyway, waiting for him to shut the door. She sat at his desk, setting her plate down on her lap. "What's up?"

"Mom is really, really worried."

"She asked you to talk to me, didn't she?" At his hesitation, she let out a sigh. "Jon, seriously."

"Clary, look, you're doing fine, in my opinion, but the truth is you haven't seen your friends outside of school, so that's slightly concerning, and you've been studying way too much this week."

"Would you rather I spend that time bawling my eyes out?" She gave him an incredulous look and, after taking her plate from her lap, stood up. "I'm going to my room."

"Clary—"

"Shut up, Jon."

She left the room in a hurry, angry tears forming in her eyes. She could not believe that her brother, of all people, was lecturing her on how to deal with feelings. This was the guy who punched a hole into the wall of his room when his girlfriend cheated on him.

She locked herself in her room, taking deep breaths. _Calm down_, Clary said to herself, taking deep breaths. She took her iPod and her headphones, clicking play on her classical music playlist.

Ever since she was little, music was the only thing to calm her down. Whenever she needed to relax, or to study, or to disconnect from the world, she just listened to her favorites and took a deep breath as she lay down on her bed and looked up at the ceiling or closed her eyes. Two hours of Yo Yo Ma awaited her, and she didn't care whether her food was going to be cold by the time she reopened her eyes. She didn't care, she didn't care, she didn't care.

She just breathed.

* * *

His funeral was the next day. There was a great turnout; over half of the school attended. It made sense; he was well liked and friends with most of the senior class. Clary caught sight of her best friend, Simon Lewis, across the parking lot. Next to him was his girlfriend, and one of Clary's other friends, Isabelle. Isabelle Lightwood was drop-dead gorgeous; with her incredible fashion sense and perfect makeup, she usually had the boys all drooling, despite the fact that she was with Simon. Today, however, she looked the exact opposite. Her face was practically bare, her hair tied back unceremoniously, and her plain black dress was hanging from her shoulders. On a normal day, she wouldn't have been seen outside of her house that way. But this wasn't a normal day.

Clary looked back and saw her brother and parents walking together. Her parents claimed they had come for him and his parents, because they had known him too, but Clary could see their true motives. They were there to make sure that she was okay. And she absolutely hated it. She hated that their presence was so overwhelming and annoying and that they asked her _are you okay_ every day, like anyone would be okay after one of her best friends passed away. They were always looking over their shoulders to check that she was still there.

And she understood, but she really, really, really hated it.

Isabelle and Simon met her halfway, their faces grim. Clary didn't know if she looked quite as bad as the two of them, but she felt a thousand times worse on the inside.

"Hi," she said to them, feeling like she needed to say more, but the words couldn't form themselves in her mind. There were too many things she needed to tell the two of them, too many things she hadn't mustered up the courage to say during this past week and a half. She hadn't seen them outside of the school's too-crowded halls, and here they were. Her two best friends.

"Hey," Simon said, wrapping her in a hug. She squeezed back, growing scared of letting go. Despite the two of them being her absolute best friends, she'd known Simon longer. He was there when she learned to ride a bike and ended up with scrapes and bruises all over her body. He was there when she twisted her ankle in the first grade. He was there long before Isabelle, and, because of this, he would always be her primary source of comfort.

When he let go, it was Isabelle's turn. The two of them hugged, and Clary closed her eyes. She'd asked herself what she would have done if either one of these two had been the one to go, and it was the only thing that resonated in her mind. _It could've been you_, she wanted to say, but the thought made her eyes water and her chest feel like it was far too heavy for her body to hold. She didn't say anything, just walked with them the rest of the way.

* * *

His family wasn't very religious, so they had opted to hold the funeral in the cemetery, not at a church. Clary sat next to Simon, who had Isabelle on his other side. Her parents were sitting a few rows back, and as much as they were still scrutinizing her, at least they weren't hovering. The service was short; the speaker stumbled over his words, and in Clary's opinion, did a pretty bad job; but she knew _he_ would have laughed. She could almost picture him sitting by her side, snickering at the speaker's nervousness and the cheesy words he read from a crumpled up piece of paper.

But, when she turned to find him, she saw Simon.

She almost felt like bursting into tears in the middle of the service. There were so many things that she wanted to say to him about everything—about the big moments and the small ones, about how much she loved him—but all she had was empty space and a coffin that felt all too close to her.

In it was his body. Or what remained of it, anyway.

She caught Jace Wayland's eye as he surveyed the crowd. They lingered on her as she met his gaze straight on, not looking away. He was another of his best friends, though they mostly spent time together because of football. She looked away after his mom went up to the front of the coffin to say a few words.

She wanted to look at anyone but his mom. She looked so broken, so utterly devastated, that her entire body hurt after she looked at the woman standing in front of her. She looked like she'd aged ten years in the past week and a half, like she gained all the years he lost because of a single, fleeting moment.

Clary didn't want to hear her speak.

But she had to do it. She reached out to hold Simon's hand, and he squeezed tightly enough that she felt her fingers might break. She tried everything to ignore the words stumbling out of the lady's mouth, the same woman who loved to bake and was there for him even with a 9-to-5 job. But they were too strong and too fast, and she caught parts of it, like the initial "thank you" at the people who showed up, and the fact that he was a good boy, and a great son, and a nice friend, and an example. Clary wanted to block her out as she started to cry in front of the hundreds of people at the funeral, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene.

"I'm gonna be sick," she whispered to Simon.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder, bringing her close. "You're gonna be okay."

She shook her head as the woman's husband helped her back to her seat. She didn't know what to do. She felt bad when, a week earlier, she told his mother that she couldn't speak at the funeral. His girlfriend was about to go up; Clary was supposed to go after her. She felt sick—physically sick—as she heard person after person speak about the person he was, the person he wanted to be, and what he did for them. She wanted to run until her lungs burned and she couldn't breathe.

But she couldn't move.

So she just stayed right there. His coffin was lowered into the grave, and she watched. Almost everyone left for the reception and she watched them leave. The rest of the chairs were put away, but the workers left her be. She caught their understanding and sympathetic looks, but she didn't care. She just sat.

Eventually, she walked over to the banquet hall where the reception was being held and joined everyone inside. She walked over to where her friends stood. Isabelle, Simon, Jonathan, Aline, Helen, Isabelle's brother Alec, his boyfriend Magnus, and Maia. But not him.

Jordan Kyle was the life of the party. Nothing would ever be the same.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! _


	2. When The World Comes Down

_rippingbutterflywings: Hey, guys! So, here's the next chapter for this story. :D Thank you so, so much to everyone who's read/reviewed/favorited/followed this story. I mean, we were both ridiculously happy about the reaction this story got, so thank you! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :)_

_clarissadele: Thanks everyone for reviewing/favoriting/following and I hope you all have a merry Christmas!_

* * *

_What can we do better?  
When will we know how?_

* * *

The reception was short, and Clary watched as guests went to greet Jordan's parents. If she were them, she would be sick of hearing it already, sick of hearing people say "I'm sorry for your loss" over and over again with an overly sympathetic expression on their faces. When it came to be Clary's turn to speak to Jordan's mother, she just gave her a hug and said nothing else, because she didn't want to be remembered as one of the other people who said she was sorry when she was an infinite amount of other things, too.

Simon and Isabelle made their way over to her. She stood far away so that she could watch the people hug Jordan's crying mother and his stoic-looking father, who was very obviously trying to be strong. Clary could only imagine the storm inside of the two of them, the things they think about when they're alone. She shook her head as her friends stood beside them in silence.

"Do you wanna go somewhere after this?" Isabelle asked Clary. Obviously, she had already had that conversation with Simon, and, clearly, he had already agreed.

The wind made her shiver. It was early June, but it was chilly anyway. She let her hair down, which was a terrible mistake, she realized. She wore tights under her dress and a cardigan to keep her warm, but she couldn't shake the feeling of being cold. Maybe it was anxiety, or nerves, or the fact that she needed to move, but she couldn't stand still without freezing.

One of her friends was dead.

"Sure," Clary said, giving in. She felt guilty. Although her friends had each other to grieve with, she still needed to be there for them. _It could've been them_, she reminded herself, and then she wanted to slap herself for only coming up with that lame justification for hanging out with them. They were her _friends_. She loved nobody else as much as she loved them. There was nothing in the world she wouldn't do for them.

But she was tired.

"Izzy was thinking of going to a diner," Simon told Clary. "Just in case you were wondering."

She shrugged. "I'll go anywhere as long as we leave soon. I can't stand being here anymore."

"Yeah," Isabelle muttered. "Me neither."

"We can just leave, right?" Clary asked her friend, basically begging with her eyes. "There's no, like, afterparty or anything?"

Isabelle stared at her as if she'd grown two heads. "This is a _funeral_, Clary."

She shrugged once more. "It's my first one."

"Jesus," Simon remarked, shaking his head. His hair was shaggy, almost covering his eyes. "We can leave, Clary."

"I'll call my parents." Clary whipped out her phone and dialed Jocelyn's number. Simon mother was talking to them; she could see them from where she stood. When her mother finally answered, she wasted no time. "Hey, Mom, can I go a diner with my friends?"

"Sure, honey," Jocelyn replied. "Just be safe out there."

"I will."

"I love you," Jocelyn said to her.

"I love you too, Mom."

After hanging up, she followed her two best friends over to Isabelle's car. She was relieved when Isabelle drove away. She saw the people grow smaller as they made their way out of the cemetery, away from where Jordan's lifeless body lay underground.

She tried not to think about it the whole way to the diner. No one spoke, but music from Simon's iPod filled the silence.

_You can sit beside me when the world comes down,  
__If it doesn't matter, then just turn around.  
__We don't need our bags, and we can just leave town,  
__You can sit beside me when the world comes down._

After five songs, they made it to the diner. It was mostly empty, which wasn't very shocking, since it was only eleven o'clock on a Saturday morning, and people liked to sleep. Or so Clary guessed, anyway.

They settled on a booth at the very end. Clary saw, shocked, that Isabelle decided to sit beside her instead of by Simon's side. She didn't react too strongly to it, though, but she hadn't had much one-on-one interaction with Isabelle ever since before Jordan died.

"So that was depressing," Isabelle said lightly.

"Isabelle!" Simon replied sharply.

"What?" she asked, giving him a look. "It's true."

"It was," Clary said, speaking up before Simon had a chance to retaliate. "Then again, this whole thing is depressing."

"Agreed," Isabelle replied. "Makes me wanna get wasted."

"Oh God," Simon commented, shaking his head. "Isabelle, please."

Isabelle shook her head. "What?"

"Do you guys want me to leave?" Clary asked, sharper than she meant to. "Because I don't wanna be the third wheel when you two are gonna just fight the entire time."

The two of them shut up at that. Simon raked a hand through his hair, and Isabelle buried her face in her hands. The truth was that they were all tense. And scared. They were very, very scared, terrified of the mere possibility of another tragedy striking. They thought, at the very least, that they were invincible in the sense that they would always be there, that they would see each other go through graduation, and then through college, and job interviews, and careers, and marriages, and broken hearts, and all of the things that were supposed to happen before a friend passed away.

But then they realized that it didn't happen that way, and it scared the shit out of them.

"I'm sorry," Isabelle spoke up. "I'm just stressed. And tired. And, oh my God, wasn't that service just _terrible_?"

"Yeah," Clary joked half-heartedly. "I don't think that damn speaker even knew what he was doing."

"Did they just pull him off the side of the road and go, 'Hey, do you want to speak at my son's funeral? You only need to half-ass the speech; really, it's easy work," Simon added.

"Come on, Simon, we are all stricken with grief. If I were them, I wouldn't be thinking straight either. Hell, he was our friend. I'm still not." Isabelle reached over the table and grabbed Simon's hand. Clary looked away from them.

She was happy for her friends, she truly was. She was glad that they had each other, but it was just hard for her to be around them, especially at a time like this. Instead, she opted to stare out the window of the diner, and only when the people walking past the window outside started to blur did she realize that she was crying.

* * *

Simon and Isabelle dropped off Clary at her front door later that day. Instead of going inside her house, however, she headed towards the beach. A walk would help clear her mind.

The sea breeze ruffled her hair as she stepped onto the sand. Clary bent down to untie her shoelaces before pulling them off and letting her bare feet sink into the ground, the sand settling between her toes. The sun had started to set.

Clary remembered the summer days when she was younger. She would sit on the beach with her mom and watch the sunset. They would both have their sketchbooks and paint sets with them. Eventually, Jonathan and Luke would join them, and they would sit together as Luke told them stories and Jocelyn and Clary painted the sunset.

She remembered a time when she used greens and purples and blues instead of oranges, yellows, and pinks. Jonathan leaned over her sketchbook and told her that it didn't look like a sunset because she used the wrong colors. Jocelyn had looked over at them both, ruffled Jon's hair, and told him that Clary's sunset could be any way she imagined it. Clary imagined that she was watching the sunset with her friends instead of by herself. That Jordan was there with them.

But it didn't work. He wasn't coming back.

"Beautiful night."

Clary jumped and looked up to the person who had startled her. Jace Wayland stood a few feet away, the fading sunlight shining off of his golden blond hair. He grinned at her, and she felt her face turn red in embarrassment. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, it's fine," Clary replied, awkwardly rocking back and forth on her heels. She was never really good at interacting with guys; it just wasn't a thing she'd ever had a chance to do. At least not with people who were as attractive and unavailable as Jace, anyway.

"The funeral today was pretty depressing. I didn't know you and Jordan were friends." His hands were shoved inside the pockets of his pants.

"I've known him since we were little," Clary said, surprised that he even knew who she was.

"Oh. Well, I'm sorry for your loss," Jace responded, shading his eyes from the sun.

"Yeah, me too," she muttered, more to herself than to him. "You were friends with him too, right?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"Then ditto," she replied, wanting to steer clear of the actual apology. Aside from a small nod in acknowledgement, he didn't say anything back to her.

"Well, I'll see you around, Clary." He offered her a small smile and turned around to head back towards his own house.

Clary shivered and turned around to go back to her house.

* * *

She was sitting on her bed when her phone vibrated by her side.

Clary almost missed the call, but she didn't. She paused the music that was playing from her iPod and looked at the Caller ID. _Maia_. What could she possibly want at midnight?

"Hello?" Clary asked, her voice groggy and slightly croaky from being unused in hours.

"Clary?" Maia sounded...weird. Energetic. _Frantic_. "Is that you?"

"Well, yeah," she replied, dumbfounded. "What's up?"

"I have an idea."

"What kind of idea?"

"Well, I was talking to Jordan's mom, and—well, it's a long story, but I just feel like I'm missing something."

"What do you mean?"

Maia let out what Clary translated as a frustrated sigh. "Well," the former said, "I feel like there's something keeping me from moving on."

Clary didn't know what to say to that. She'd been struggling, the feeling of drowning catching up to her just as she pulled herself up, but it was nothing compared to what Maia must have been feeling. She and Jordan dated for almost three years; before that, they'd been best friends for years. They were inseparable. Clary hadn't known a time in which the two of them were not joined at the hip.

Her heart was stuck in her throat. "Maia—"

"No," she said, and Clary could picture her shaking her head. "Listen, I'm not gonna do this right now. I just had an idea, and I consulted with Jordan's mom, and she said it would be good."

Clary figured that she had one of two options. She could either tell Maia that, whatever it was, it wasn't going to help her. She could tell her that he was gone forever and that whatever she was doing wasn't going to change the fact that she was never going to be able to talk to her boyfriend/best friend/practically _family _again.

Or she could listen to her idea.

"Okay," Clary told Maia, "I'm all ears."

* * *

_Let us know what you think! Happy holidays! xo_


	3. Could It Be Another Change

_rippingbutterflywings: Hey, guys! I know that we took a little while with this chapter, but we've had a pretty hectic couple of weeks, and we couldn't really get on at the same time until this week. So...yeah. Here's the next chapter. I hope you guys like it, and thank you for reading! xo_

_clarissadele: Hey, guys, really sorry for the wait but rippingbutterflywings and I have both been super busy with school and stuff lately. Huge shoutout to everyone who read the last chapter! You rock! Till next time!_

* * *

The next morning, Clary found herself sitting in Jordan's living room with a cup of tea in her hands. Maia, along with Jordan's parents, had wanted her to come over as quickly as possible so that they could start to figure out plans for Maia's idea. Simon and Isabelle were there as well, but they hadn't been filled in on the situation quite yet.

Jordan's mom walked into the room with Maia. Her hair hung loose around her shoulders; it was the same exact colour that his was. She smiled at Clary, Isabelle, and Simon, but it did not reach her eyes. Clary wondered if she would ever look the way she used to when Jordan was still around. "Thank you for coming this morning," she greeted them all.

"It's no problem, Mrs. Kyle," Isabelle said, with a politeness in her tone that Clary knew she only reserved for adults.

Just then, there was a knock at the door, and, moments later, none other than Jace Wayland strolled into the room and came to stand beside the couch that Clary was perched on. "Sorry I'm late," he apologized.

"Oh, don't worry about it, Jace," Jordan's mom replied, waving it off. "We haven't even discussed anything yet. Maia, would you like to explain your idea?"

"Sure," Maia said, grinning halfheartedly at the group. "I had a thought yesterday. I think that we can all agree that the funeral did not do Jordan any justice or celebrate his life whatsoever. So, I was thinking that maybe we could find our own way to honor his memory. Jordan loved music; he and Simon were in a band together. I was talking to our friend Bat, who graduated a couple years back, because he's big into music. He booked the amphitheatre in the park for a couple months from now.

"My thought was that we could put together a music festival in Jordan's honor and donate all the money we raise to one of his favourite charities. Bat already booked the venue for us, and he can help us with a lot of other things as well when we get closer to the date. But we'd still need help. So...what do you guys think?"

Clary had known most of the information already from when Maia had called her the night before, so, as Maia explained what was happening, she was mostly watching for reactions from her friends and Jace. Jace, whom she didn't even really know. He was a surprise that Maia had definitely not mentioned.

Isabelle was the first to speak about Maia's idea. "I think that you have a great idea in organizing this all for Jordan, Maia, but I don't know about this. I mean, there aren't that many of us, and even if I enlisted Alec and Magnus to help us out, do you think we'd even be able to pull it off?"

"We have months to figure it all out, Izzy," Maia pointed out.

"Besides," Jace said. "I don't know any of you too well, but I think we all know that Jordan would want to go out with a bang. And that shit that was his funeral definitely didn't do him any justice."

"So, what do you say?" Maia asked.

"I'm in," Jace responded.

"Me too," Simon said.

"Same," Isabelle added. They all looked at Clary, waiting for her to say something.

"Okay," she said slowly. "Let's do this."

* * *

After long hours of trying to plan the music festival, Clary was feeling just about ready to give up.

The thing was, before she actually sat down with the four other people who were planning this event, she didn't think of it as a tangible idea. She thought of the end project, of stages full of bands and music filling the air as people danced and Jordan's memory would be very much _there_.

But, as they began to list everything they needed to do in the moments leading up to the festival, she realized that this was very, _very_ hard. They had the venue, sure, and Maia said that Bat was taking care of the stages and lighting, but they still needed to find sponsors for food and drinks, make flyers, and, slightly more importantly, find _actual performers_.

They were so royally screwed.

"Why didn't we plan this for December?" Clary groaned, shaking her head.

"Seriously," Isabelle said. "I know that we wanna do this, but we only have two and a half months to organize this entire event."

"I know, okay?" Maia bit her lip. "But we'll figure this out. Bat and his band will play. Simon's already offered to play, so that's good. I'm asking Bat to see if he knows of any way to contact big acts, and two of you will audition local ones."

Clary's head snapped up. "Two of us?"

"Are you volunteering?"

_It's better than finding sponsors to provide the food_, she thought. After nodding, she said, "Yeah, I'm in. That sounds nice."

"All we need is a second person. _Actually_," Maia said, turning to Jace, "this one's good. Izzy and Simon are working on food and drinks and every other expense, because Simon's a certified math genius, so you two will work on the design and entertainment."

"Design?"

"Making a website, printing out posters, finding the performers—all of that."

"That...doesn't sound bad," Clary said. "Okay." She walked over to where Jace was seated and plopped down beside him. "Hi. What should we do first?"

"Well, the first thing we need to do is find the bands." He tapped his pencil against the currently blank piece of paper that he'd been given. "You're really good with graphic design, right?"

"Average," she corrected.

"It's better than my nonexistent technological skills. Okay, so can you make a poster to advertise the audition?"

"Where should we hold it? And when?"

"Well, today's Monday, so maybe on Friday?"

"We're gonna waste a whole week?" she asked him, incredulous.

"It gives bands time to prepare, and it also gives us time to come up with different advertisement

ideas," he said, unappalled by her incredulity.

She gave him a look that hopefully made her seem apologetic and nodded. "Okay. I'll make the flyer now," she said, taking out her laptop from her bag. When Maia had called, she'd given specific instructions to bring her computer "for research purposes." Though Clary hadn't necessarily understood her, she also really didn't have it in her to complain or ask any questions, so she did as Maia said.

"You brought your—"

"Long story," she said, waving him off.

For the next hour, she worked on designing the flyer, constantly asking Jace for his opinion on fonts, color schemes, and overall layouts. They took a break only to make an email account just for the festival, and then resumed their flyer-making project. By the time it was one o'clock, they were ready to show the other three people what they'd accomplished thus far.

"That's good!" Maia said, clapping her hands. "Okay, Mr. and Mrs. Kyle have agreed to let use their printer. They said it's the least they could do." She shrugged. "You guys know where the office is, right?"

The two of them nodded and stood up, Clary with her laptop in hand. They walked to the office room, which was empty. There was an entire row full of bookshelves, which were filled with books and binders and photo albums. Clary knew because, sometimes, when Jordan was sleeping or when she was waiting for him to get home from soccer practice, Mrs. Kyle would sit her down on the sofa in the office and show her pictures of Jordan as he grew up. Because of those days, Clary knew what newborn Jordan looked like, as well as two-year-old Jordan, and pre-school Jordan, and gap-toothed Jordan. She'd taken pictures of some of those pictures, too, and when she found out that Jordan had died, she took those pictures out and she looked at them until her eyes were too blurry and the pictures were stained with saltwater.

Now, as she looked at the neatly-stacked photo albums at the bottom of the last shelf, she tried to feel indifferent. She plugged in her computer to the printer, which had already been installed on her computer, and printed as many copies of the flyer as she could. Jace and Clary waited in a comfortable silence, looking around at the details of the room. They looked at the books and the paintings and portraits that hung in the room, and, when she saw Jordan in one of the pictures, she had to look away.

"I didn't know you two were that close," Clary said to Jace, breaking the silence.

He nodded. "We've been friends for five years."

She didn't know what to say to that, because she was dangerously close to spewing out an insincere-sounding _I'm sorry_. She kept the words to herself, locked them deep in her mind, and turned to see the ink levels on the printer. There was still forty percent of ink left, and they'd printed out one-hundred flyers.

"He talked about you, you know."

Her head snapped up. "He did?"

Jace nodded once more. "It mostly started happening after he figured out that we're basically neighbors, and then he was like, 'Dude, Clary's awesome. She's so smart. She knows how to paint like a motherfucker, and she's so rad, and you should talk to her.'" He shook his head. "He was always trying to get me to make more friends."

"Well, you don't have many," she blurted out, her eyes widening. When he raised his eyebrows, she relaxed. "Just an observation."

"You're right," he conceded, pacing around the room. "I don't have many friends. I don't think I have any good ones at all now."

Her expression softened. She'd been thinking, this entire time, about how terrible it was that she'd lost one of her best friends, and how she would never get over it, but Jace—Jace lost his _only_ friend.

"Jace—"

He shook his head, keeping her from speaking up. "How are the ink levels?"

Despite her need to bring up the subject again, she looked over. "Twenty percent, and we've printed about one hundred and fifty copies."

"That should be fine, right?"

She shrugged. "I suppose. It _is _a small town."

They stopped printing the flyers and walked back into the living room with their 150-odd copies. The living room was empty, however. Jace and Clary looked around until they saw a note that said _out to bring lunch! _and relaxed.

"It's just us?"

"And the Kyles," Jace reminded her.

"Oh, joy," she muttered. Just what she needed in her life. To be stuck in this particular house.

"Do you wanna go out for a walk? We can start stapling these," Jace said, waving around the flyers.

"Do you have a staple gun or whatever?"

"I saw one in the office."

"Then yes, please."

After Jace got the staple gun from the office, the two of them walked out on the street. It was a nice, early June day, and the sky was clear. It looked almost unreal: the sky was a kind of blue that she had never really seen in real life. It was the purest sky blue, intense and present and beautiful. She most likely looked like an idiot, with her head up in the direction of the sky, as she found herself dumbfounded by the beauty and immensity of it. She shook her head and brought it down, meeting Jace's amused gaze.

"It's pretty," she said.

"It's there every day," he reminded her.

Clary knew that she sounded stupid, so she shook her head once more, found a tree, and stapled a flyer to it.

The two of them continued down their path. Because they lived in a small town, there really wasn't the need to print out billions of flyers. They had twenty for each neighborhood (there were five) and fifty more to staple around town and near the school. They could _do_ this. People would call. Auditions _would _happen.

She didn't know what she'd do if they didn't.

Her phone rang, snapping her out of her reverie. "Hello?"

"Clary! Did you leave the house?"

"We're stapling flyers around the neighborhood. Do you have food? Because I'm starving."

"Then get your ass over here. We have a ton of food."

"We'll be there in ten."

They were fairly far away from the house, but they basically ran back, exhaustion and hunger taking over their need to go at a slower pace and talk. They were starting to _really _sweat, but, as for Clary, she didn't give a damn.

Eight minutes later, they knocked on the Kyles' door, and Maia opened with a grin and a french fry in hand. "Come in."

They'd gone to Wendy's. Of course.

They ate for a while, the air conditioning cooling them off. Clary joined Isabelle and Simon, who told them about their quick decision to make food. Basically, they felt guilty for even thinking of asking Mrs. Kyle to cook, so they ran out to get some Wendy's while Clary and Jace printed what they thought would be a shitton of flyers.

"And you didn't think to let us know?" She raised an eyebrow, taking a bite out of her chicken burger.

"Nope. We already know what you like, and Maia knows what Jace likes. Apparently," Isabelle added, because she realized how very wrong that may have sounded, "they double dated a lot."

"Jace has a girlfriend?"

"He's had a lot."

Clary shrugged and continued to eat. She frankly didn't care if he had a girlfriend or two or just hooked up casually. In that moment, she only cared about two things: eating, and making sure that this festival would happen.

As soon as she finished eating, she realized how tired she was. It was almost six o'clock; they'd been at Jordan's house for about seven, maybe eight hours. She let out a yawn, half-embarrassed about it. But, to be honest, she was tired. There was nothing she could do about it.

They were all sitting in the living room. Maia was on the floor, typing on her computer, while Jace was sitting on a reclining chair. Clary, Isabelle, and Simon sat on the bigger sofa. It was dark outside already, so the yellowish lighting of the house was dimmer than usual.

"Who's taking you home?" Isabelle asked Clary upon hearing her yawn.

"I thought you were," she replied, frowning. "I told you my brother couldn't pick me back up because he has a summer class at night."

"Shit," she swore. "Simon and I have a dinner with his mom and sister, and it's kind of...important." She made a face.

"I can take you," a voice said. She turned to her right and saw Jace Wayland's golden hair. "We're practically neighbors."

"You," Izzy said, "are a lifesaver."

He shrugged. "I'm going to the same place, right?"

Clary bit her lip and nodded. "Okay."

"So do you wanna leave now?"

"Yeah," she replied.

He got up from his chair and started gathering his stuff. She thought that it all went down in a pretty awkward manner, but she brushed it off. She said goodbye to her friends and said she'd be in touch, and, to Mr. and Mrs. Kyle, she said that she'd be back soon. She walked out the door with Jace shortly after their decision to leave, her bag slung over her shoulder and her phone in hand.

Jace drove a blue pickup truck, which Clary found surprisingly awesome. She got inside the car, admiring the view from a taller car, especially since she was so short. He looked over at her and asked if she was ready before taking off, and there they were, twenty minutes away from their home.

While they lived by the beach, Jordan definitely did not. Neither did many people, which was why she was lucky that her best friends had cars and a lot of gas money. She sat back and tried to relax, but she was insanely aware of Jace's presence.

"Do you wanna play some music?" he asked, looking at her briefly before training his eyes on the road.

"That'd be nice."

"Here." He took his iPod from his pocket. "The auxiliary cable's already connected."

"Awesome," she muttered. After finding it, she scrolled through his music until she found something she liked.

_The only time I feel good fallin',  
__Is when I'm falling fast and hard for you.  
__The last two digits when I'm calling,  
__Fade away, but somehow I'll get through.  
__The only time I feel good sinking,  
__Is when I'm sinking fast and deep for you.  
__You caught me as I was winking,  
__Now I think my winking days are through._

"I love this song," he said. "I didn't know you knew this song."

"In your defense, we don't really know each other," she said, feeling slightly more at ease. "But yeah, I love this song. It makes me feel like I'm in a movie."

"The best kind of songs," he agreed.

They fell into a comfortable silence, listening to the song as they stared out into the too-familiar roads. When the next song came around, however, Clary's mood shifted.

Her jam.

She always felt like singing really loudly when this song came on, and she was worried that she wouldn't be able to stay still now that it was playing. She felt half-tempted to change it, but she decided that she wanted to leave it.

_Let me know that I've done wrong,  
__When I've known this all along.  
__I go around a time or two,  
__Just to waste my time with you.  
__Tell me all that you've thrown away,  
__Find out games you don't wanna play.  
__You are the only one that needs to know._

She tried to keep her fingers and toes from bouncing, but it was impossible. This was _her _song. She'd been dancing stupidly to it since she turned eleven, and now, at seventeen-going-on-eighteen, it made her feel alive. It reminded her of easier times, of times when all of her friends were close and very much _alive_.

The mention—hell, the mere thought—of Jordan's death should have been enough to sober her up, but she adored this song. Instead of letting guilt and grief get the best of her, she started singing along, suddenly not caring about what Jace might think of her. Even if he did ended up concluding that she was insane, she wouldn't see him again after the festival was over and they both went their separate ways. Granted, she didn't know where he was going to college, but she didn't need to. There was no way that the two of them, as different as they were, had chosen the same college.

Jace glanced over at her, a small smile forming on his face. "You like this song?"

"I adore this song."

"Me too," he said, and began singing along. She had no time to be surprised; instead, she fought to keep up with the singing, finding that the song—and the singing—lifted her spirits. After the song was done, she laughed in a way she hadn't in weeks.

"What's coming up next?" Jace asked her, looking like he was genuinely enjoying singing along with her. It was a ridiculous bonding type of thing, and she found herself loving it.

"We'll see," she said coyly, scrolling through his iPod.

When the song started playing, Jace registered it and only had time to say, "Oh my God" before the singing began.

_Oh, well imagine, _

_As I'm pacing the pews in a church corridor,  
__And I can't help but to hear,  
__No, I can't help but to hear an exchanging of words.  
_"_What a beautiful wedding!  
__What a beautiful wedding!" says a bridesmaid to a waiter  
_"_And yes, but what a shame,  
__What a shame the poor groom's bride is a whore."_

They laughed and sang along to the songs that had rooted themselves deep within their hearts during their teenage years. It was odd, to reminisce about those times with someone who had never been a part of them, but she did it anyway. She thought about Jordan while she sang with Jace. She thought about how it had once been her best friend to understand her taste in music, how it had once been him with whom she sang these songs with. It was enough to sober her up for a bit, but, as she saw that Jace was enjoying himself, she continued to do as well—but not without a heavy heart, like a rock had been placed on her chest.

They finally made it to her house. When he paused the music, she snapped back to reality. Her face was flushed from the elated singing, and she felt _happy_. She had lost herself in the music and the unique feeling of traveling by car, and she couldn't help but smile as she turned to the guy who'd given her the ride in the first place.

"So that was fun," she said to him, unable to keep herself from smiling.

"It really was," he replied, allowing a smile to make its way onto his face.

"Listen," she told him, "I was thinking of going over to Jordan's again tomorrow and look at his room, maybe? Just to see if we find something."

He nodded. "That makes sense."

At that, she gave him a soft, tired smile. The excitement was beginning to wear down. "Okay. Would it be terrible if I asked for a ride?"

"Not at all. I'll pick you up at two?"

"Sounds good. And thank you for today," she added. "For the ride and everything else."

"You're welcome," he said with a quick nod.

She exited his truck, slamming the door shut with enough force so it would close. She made her way into the house, the smell of the ocean welcoming her home. She had a stupid smile on her face, but she couldn't deny the heaviness in her chest. However, she could pretend that it was exhaustion, even for just a second. Even when she felt his absence. She remembered Jace and thought of him as a reminder than Jordan would always be there in the weirdest of ways, through other people.

She didn't go into her house straight away. She watched as he drove away, the headlights illuminating the street. She bit her lip, letting the breeze fuel her exhaustion a bit more. She felt herself swaying on her feet, her head getting lighter and lighter by each second that passed by. When she felt like she was exhausted enough to pass out, she went inside, going back to her everyday life.

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	4. Lost Stars

_clarissadele: __Thank you for being so patient with us while we deal with school and stuff! Also, does anyone watch The 100? it's killing both of us. _

_rippingbutterflywings: Hii, everyone! I know that it's been a little over a month since our last update, and I wanna apologize for that. The two of us have been super busy, and our schedules have just not coincided at all, but we finally got together today and wrote a bit, so we were able to update. Thank you so much for your support and your patience, and I hope you like this chapter! (Also, The 100 IS killing us. I feel myself die a little over it every day.) _

* * *

_God, tell us the reason youth wasted on the young  
__It's hunting season and the lambs are on the run  
__Searching for meaning  
__But are we all lost stars, trying to light up the dark?_

"Lost Stars" by Adam Levine

* * *

When Clary called Jordan's parents to see if they minded her and Jace going over to look around Jordan's room to see if they could find anything that could be helpful, she didn't expect for there to be a meal involved.

Which was how she ended up eating wraps with Mrs. Kyle and Jace in the kitchen. Mr. Kyle was working, thankfully, so it was just her, Jace, and her dead friend's mother. Not awkward at all.

"What are you going to look for in Jordan's room, exactly?"

Clary looked up at her sudden question. The meal had, so far, been an awkward one. Mrs. Kyle asked them if they got into college, what they were studying, if they were moving away. Neither one of them said _which _college they were going to, but it was enough to answer all of her curt questions. They didn't mind answering them, it seemed; talking about the future seemed like something they were at ease with. However, when it came to dealing with the present…

Well, they weren't doing too well with that.

She shook her head. "Um, just...things. Band shirts, CDs, the whole thing. We're trying to do something he would fall in love with, you know?"

Mrs. Kyle looked like she was about to cry. Oh, God. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice breaking. _Shit_, Clary thought. She couldn't see Mrs. Kyle cry. She _wouldn't _see her cry. Before the tears could fall, though, Jordan's mother shook her head and let out a strange, humorless laugh. "I'm probably making you uncomfortable. Sorry."

"You're not," Clary assured her, even though she _was_. She knew better than to be honest with someone as fragile as Mrs. Kyle, though. She didn't have it in her to be so blunt.

"No, I am," she replied sadly, setting down her half-eaten wrap. "I'm gonna go upstairs. You two get everything you need, okay? This is your house too."

For some reason, seeing her walk up the stairs looking terribly small and hunched and breakable made Clary want to cry, too. She never wanted to say to Jordan's mother that she understood the pain she was going through, because she didn't. While Clary had lost a friend, Mrs. Kyle had lost a _son_. The kind of pain she was feeling must've been unbearable.

Jace cleared his throat. "I'm, uh, gonna look around the house." He threw his empty wrappers in the trash and made his way out of the kitchen, leaving her alone.

She stayed there for a bit, wondering _why _she had decided to come. It was a bad idea—a _terrible _idea. She had to pull herself together for an additional minute or two. Instead of letting her thoughts wander to bad places, she focused on her company. Jace had been incredibly considerate when he picked her up at her house. Upon seeing her drowsy expression, he offered to let her choose the music, thinking that maybe it'd energize her. A few songs later, she felt like a whole new person.

She felt her phone vibrating in her pocket and pulled it out. It was her mother calling. She let out a long, frustrated sigh before picking up the phone. "Hey, Mom."

"Hey, Clary. Are you still at Jordan's?"

She nodded, even though her mother couldn't really see her. "Yep. I had lunch with Jace and Mrs. Kyle. I'm still eating, but we're gonna start looking around soon. Why?"

"No reason," was Jocelyn's reply. "I'm just checking up on you."

Clary felt bad for wishing there _was _a reason, but that would have been better than having her mom call her for absolutely no reason at all. She didn't like being viewed as a fragile thing that could break at any second, which was exactly how Jocelyn and Luke had been treating her for the past few weeks.

"I'm fine," Clary replied. "Really, Mom. I have to go. I'll text you when I'm headed home."

"Okay." She heard some sniffling from her mother's end, but decided to ignore it. "I love you."

"You too. Bye."

After hanging up, Clary finished off her food and dumped the wrappers into the garbage can before getting up and heading to Jordan's room. When she got to the hall, however, she noticed that it was already open. Clary frowned; she knew Mrs. Kyle was upstairs, and wondered if Jace had started to look in the room already.

When she saw the sunlight reflecting off of his golden hair, she knew that he had. He seemed to be looking for something. Upon her entrance, he looked up and saw Clary standing in the doorway, her hands shoved in the pockets of her jeans.

"I left my sweater here a while back," he explained. "I figured this was a decent time to get it." Clary nodded, knowing that he probably had an ulterior motive anyway, and went to sit on Jordan's bed.

"It's weird, isn't it?" She found herself wondering aloud. "To be sitting in here and know that he's not just around the corner. I mean, I don't know how close you were, but my friends and I were here a lot."

"Jordan was one of my best friends too, Clary." Jace replied. "I know what you mean." She felt a strange sensation at the fact that she never noticed his friendship with Jordan before, at how they seemed to exist in different worlds for Jordan. Clary got up to leave, to cover other areas of the house, but she didn't even get the chance to scream when her foot went through the floor. Groaning, she pulled her foot back out, wincing as she felt a slight throb upon placing it back on the floor.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked, walking over to where she was standing, a sweater now in his hand.

"Yeah, I think so. Man, it must've been really loose," she replied, rubbing her ankle and making a face.

"Hang on a second," Jace said. "What's that?" He was pointing at a box that was hidden under the floor where Clary fell. From where Clary could see, it looked like it was made of wood, but it was painted black, and Jordan's initials were engraved on the lid. He pulled it out and hesitated for a second before opening the lid. Inside was a bunch of stuff that Clary had never seen before. A journal, some old papers and photos, some receipts, and a couple of keys.

"Have you ever seen this before?" Clary asked Jace. He shook his head.

She picked up the journal first, but couldn't bring herself to open it quite yet, so she set it neatly back inside the box before pulling out the photos instead. They were mostly of Jordan and Maia and a few other people that Clary Jace didn't recognize—until she got to one photo, and Clary almost dropped the entire stack. She stared at the photo for a little longer in shock, not quite believing what she was seeing, but she eventually stood up and shoved it into her bag.

Clary went for the door and turned back around to look at Jace, who was holding the box. "Are you coming?" She found herself blurting the words out before she had fully thought through what she was going to say.

Jace slowly stood up and looked at her skeptically. "Where?" he asked, confused.

"To get answers."

* * *

_Let us know what you think! xo_


	5. Decode

_rippingbutterflywings: Heeeey, guys. So this chapter's incredibly late. I'm so, so, so sorry about that. Honestly, finding time to write together sucks, because clarissadele and I have different schedules and different time zones. Anyway, we're gonna try our hardest to update sooner, I promise. Thank you so much for your reviews and for reading! It's very much appreciated. :) _

_clarissadele: Sorry we took so long to update! We're terrible, I know. Hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

_How did we get here?  
__When I used to know you so well._

"Decode" by Paramore

* * *

Clary burst through the door of her house and tried to conceal her anger as she thundered up the stairs to her brother's room. She pushed open the door, not caring about what he was doing or who he was with. Thankfully, he was by himself, just sitting at his desk with his headphones in. He hadn't noticed her come in yet. She could hear Jace walking up the stairs behind her, struggling to catch up._  
_

Clary ripped the headphones out of his ear, but, before he could shout a string of curse words at her, she shoved the photo right under his nose.

"What the hell is this, Jon?" Clary yelled, completely forgetting to control her temper. Jonathan's eyes went wide when he saw what she was holding.

"Where did you get that?" he asked her.

"Loose floorboard in Jordan's room. It doesn't matter where I got it, Jon. I asked you what the hell it is. Were you secret friends with Jordan or something?"

Before answering, his eyes focused on something behind her. She'd completely forgotten about Jace for a second. He stood, lingering by the doorway, his expression hesitant.

"Jace," he said as an introduction. "And you must be Jon."

"The one and only," her brother replied.

"Jon!" she exclaimed, exasperated. "I don't have the patience for this. Were you secret friends with Jordan, or not?" Her expression matched her face; her eyebrows were raised, and her eyes were wide open and expectant.

After examining her expression, Jon let out a breath. "Yes, okay? We were friends! I didn't want you to know because I knew you were going to get upset, just like this! Besides, that was a year ago. We hadn't been friends for ten months when he died." He crossed his arms and stared at her, as if waiting for a reaction.

Clary threw her hands up in the air. "Why? What happened in your secret friendship that caused you to give it up and _still_ not tell me?" Her words were bitter, but she didn't care. She had the right to be angry.

Jonathan raked a hand through his hair. "It's a long story, Clary." He was using the same tone he did when Jocelyn asked him what he wanted to do with his future, the kind of tone that said that he didn't want to get into it. _Well_, Clary thought to herself, _too bad_.

"I have a lot of time."

Jon let out a frustrated sigh and grabbed his car keys. "Let me take you to someone who can explain things a bit better."

* * *

She and Jace rode in the back of her brother's car. She refused to sit by Jonathan's side, because it made her sick to look at him.

If there was one thing Clary couldn't stand, it was definitely liars.

She ran a hand through her curls and focused on the music playing from her iPod. She snuck a glance at Jace, who was also listening to his own music. She was trying to keep track of where they were going, but she didn't recognize the streets anymore. She didn't know if they were even in the same city; they'd been driving for almost an hour, wandering into unfamiliar parts of unfamiliar places.

She'd texted her mother, who was out with Luke, to let her know that she and Jon were going out. She told Jocelyn that, if she wanted any information about it, she should call Jon, because he said it was a surprise. It wasn't exactly the truth, but it might as well have been; she had no fucking clue as to where they were going, or when they were going to get there.

As she glanced at Jace once more, she felt guilty about dragging him along. They barely knew each other, and here he was, in the car with her and her brother, who were currently not speaking to each other. He was caught in the middle, stuck between two strangers, and all because he wanted to help plan something for his dead best friend.

If anger weren't coursing through her veins, if she weren't seeing red, then maybe she would have been a little more sensitive to what he was feeling. But she looked away from him, buried her guilt and regret, and focused on the road.

After the second hour was almost up, Jonathan's car lurched to a stop in front of a small house. She had no idea as to which neighborhood they were in, but she hurried out of the car, needing to stretch. Music still filled her ears as she took it all in: the sun was setting, casting a peaceful light on the similar-looking houses that stood side by side in perfect unison.

A girl was waiting outside of the house they parked in front of, and she recognized her from some of Jordan's pictures. She didn't know her name, but her dark hair was parted differently, and she didn't have red streaks running through it anymore.

"Hey," she said to Jon, giving him a quick hug and a smile. "Haven't seen you in a while."

"I know," he said, regret buried somewhere in his voice. "Listen, I need to tell you something."

She eyed him cautiously. "What's up, Jon?"

"This is—fuck," he swore. "I mean, there's no easy way to say this, but—shit. Jordan's dead."

The girl couldn't hide the shock on her face even she tried. Clary hadn't thought that they'd be announcing Jordan's _death_. The thought made her want to cry, and she watched as the girl in front of her bite her lip and took deep breaths, probably struggling to keep it together. Her wide eyes met Jonathan's.

"Is that why you're here? To deliver the news?"

He sighed, shook his head, and handed her something. _The picture_, Clary realized with a jolt. She took a step forward, and the girl's eyes landed on her almost immediately.

"Jon's sister, right?" the girl spoke up.

"Clary." She nearly glared at the girl. "Who are you?"

"Aline," she replied, walking up to Clary with an unamused smile.

"Jace," the boy beside her said, extending his hand. It was odd to see him without his usual charming ways; even in this moment, with him looking grim, he still managed to make her gravitate towards him.

It was a serious problem.

"Come on in, then." Aline led them inside the house, which was dimly lit as it was. She turned on the lights to the different rooms they passed through as they went in. "Do you want something to drink?"

"Some water," Jon said.

"Same," Clary piped up.

Jace shook his head. "I'm good."

"I'll be right back with the water. Sit wherever," she said, motioning to the many sofas and chairs that stood awkwardly arranged in the messy, chaotic living room. Aline's ears turned pink as she saw them take in the mess. "We're still moving in."

Clary didn't question her words, though she did briefly wonder who _we _was, but only for a second before settling down on the couch, letting the comforting fabric relax her.

Aline returned moments later with two glasses of water and sat down on the armchair across from the three of them. Clary had begrudgingly allowed her brother to sit next to her, with Jace looking rather uncomfortable sitting on his other side.

"So, I guess you must have figured this much out already, but Jonathan, Jordan, Maia, and I were all friends. There was a whole bunch of us that would hang out together. Jordan and Maia were the youngest, while Jonathan and I were the oldest." Clary nodded and motioned for Aline to continue.

"Jonathan and I along with a few of our other friends were in a band together. Did he tell you that?" she asked Clary

"No, but it seems that there are a lot of things I never knew about my brother," she replied coldly, not looking at Jonathan. A _band_. Seriously.

"Anyway," Aline continued. "We all went to a party about ten months ago, and Maia and I got really drunk. Like, we were _wasted_. Neither of us remembers exactly what happened. All we know is that we woke up the next morning in someone else's bed, naked, with massive hangovers. We got dressed and ran to Jonathan's—your house, I guess, which was the closest at the time. I asked him what happened, and he said that, after we went upstairs Jordan, went looking for us. When he found us, he apparently got really angry and ran out of the house." Aline paused there and took a moment to collect herself. Clary could tell that talking about it was difficult for her.

"I went over to his house later and tried to apologize, but he wouldn't hear it. He yelled at me and said he wanted nothing to do with either of us. I was stubborn at the time, so I yelled back and told him we were drunk and that we both regretted it. We didn't speak for a month. We told Jonathan to pick a side, so, in the end, I guess he just stopped talking to both of us." She looked up at Jon. "I'm really sorry about that, by the way. It was unfair for us to do that to you."

"It's okay, Aline," he replied. "We all make mistakes."

"Yeah, well, it broke up our band. I hate to think that Jordan died still hating me. He forgave Maia, didn't he?"

"Yes, he did," Jonathan replied. He got up to hug his old friend, who, though Clary could tell was tough, was also about to cry. She took that moment to steal a glance at Jace, who looked even more uncomfortable than he had before. His eyes met hers and she mouthed that she was sorry, to which he shrugged his shoulders. She also felt incredibly awkward; the moment unfolding before her felt like it should have been private, between her brother and his friend.

"Did Maia ever talk to you?" she asked. "After what happened, I mean."

Aline nodded. "Once or twice, just to see how I was doing. Jordan never found out, though. He'd never forgive her."

Clary shook her head, trying to clear her mind. "I just don't understand. I mean, I was his friend during this time, too. How could I—_we_—not know about any of this?" She snuck a glance at Jace, who shrugged once more.

Aline sighed; she sounded exhausted. "If there's something you need to know about Jordan, it's that you never knew everything about him."

"I just find that hard to believe," Clary replied. "We were best friends."

"He was just secretive by nature," she said. "Keeping secrets was in his blood. It was important for him to keep every aspect of his life in a separate little box, especially when it came to his social life."

"So he could have other friends we don't know about?" Clary asked. "Is that what you're saying?"

Aline held her hands up in surrender. "The only thing I'm saying is that there are a lot of things you don't know about Jordan. There are a lot of things _I _don't know about Jordan. The thing that you have to learn is how to deal with it."

Clary glanced at Jace, who seemed surprised in his own, quiet away. She wanted to know what was on his mind, and so, as Aline and Jonathan caught up, she motioned for him to follow her outside.

"What're you thinking?" she asked, peering at his face in the dimly-lit light.

He shook his head and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "I don't know. I'm thinking that this is way too complicated."

"Did you know? About any of this?"

Jace gave another shake of the head. "I only knew about you because I saw you at school sometimes." He paused briefly. "I think she's right, you know."

"About what?"

"About us not knowing him."

"It's just crazy, you know?" She felt herself wanting to cry at the thoughts that ran rampant in her head. "He was my best friend, and I loved him, but it turns out that I only knew a small part of him. I didn't know him at all."

"It's a tough lesson to learn," he agreed, leaning against the wall.

She joined him and looked up at the stars. "I could've gone without learning it."

After Aline and Jonathan finished speaking, the two of them walked outside. She was red-eyed and sniffling, while he looked like he was barely together. They all said their goodbyes, and the three of them climbed inside the car, readying themselves for the long way home.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! xo_


	6. Therapy

_clarissadele: Well I guess you could consider this a fairly quick update? We really need a schedule. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter, I promise we're trying our best to get these chapter hammered out_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hi, guys! Like clarissadele said, we're trying to get this figured out so we can update faster, because we're super embarrassed of the gaps between our updates. Anyway, someone pointed out last time that they didn't know why Clary was so upset about Jordan having had outside friends. So...there's a couple reasons for this. First off, Clary's been best friends with this guy for years; she thought she knew him like the back of her hand. He died, and she thought she knew who she'd lost, you know? Finding out that he had another separate group of **close **friends, especially when one of those was her very own brother. Secondly, she's still grieving, which means that her emotions and rationality are all over the place. And, thirdly, this could also lead her to think that there are things about him that she still doesn't know and that could possibly change the way she thinks about him. Add to that the fact that she can't exactly talk to him and clear things up anymore, and you've got the reason why Clary is so upset. _

_Anyway, thank you so much for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following the story, and we hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

_A handful of moments I wished I could change  
__And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade_

"Therapy" by All Time Low

* * *

Her hand stilled in the air and dropped to her side again, and she closed her eyes, wondering, for the millionth time, why she couldn't bring herself to knock on her brother's door.

After Clary and Jonathan had gotten home the previous night, Jace texted her. The very first text read: _I have a crazy idea_.

_What is it? _was her reply.

_Aline and your brother could perform at the festival. _

_Are you absolutely out of your mind?! _

_Hear me out_, his next text said. _I know that this whole thing with Jordan is complicated as fuck, but you have to accept that they were his friends, too. This could help them figure out the whole issue they had and whatever. I don't know. We need performers, Clary, and this just seems like the easy way to get two more people. _

_Are you done pleading your (insanely lengthy) case?_

Have I won you over yet?

She rolled her eyes. _Sure. I'll ask him tomorrow. _

But she couldn't bring herself to knock on her brother's door. Every single time that she raised her fist to his door, something inside of her froze.

She couldn't keep doing this to herself. She owed it to Jordan to be strong. She had to do this for him. He may have kept a lot of things from her, but he was still her friend, right?

Then why did he feel like a stranger now?

Clary shook her head and knocked softly on Jonathan's door. "Come in!" he called out, and she hesitated for only a second before making her way inside her brother's (incredibly messy) bedroom.

"What?" he asked.

"I need Aline's phone number." She figured that she'd start with the person who would most likely say yes.

"Why?"

"Because I wanna talk to her."

"About what?" Jonathan asked, his brows furrowed.

"Things," was her only reply.

"What things?"

"Girl things."

"You're disgusting," he replied. "I'm not giving you her number."

"We're not talking about girl things, you idiot, but I need her number. For reasons."

"Reasons?"

"Important, personal reasons. You owe me this much."

"_I _owe _you_?" he asked, flabberghasted.

"You kept your friendship with _my _best friend a secret for _years_!" she fired back. "Yeah, you owe me, so pay up."

"And then you'll stop throwing that back in my face?"

"Not a chance, but I'll actually speak to you if you give it to me."

"Why does that make me _not _want to give it to you?"

She shook her head, exasperated. "Give me the number, you shithead."

He sighed dramatically and took his phone from his bed. After a few seconds of awkward silence, she felt her phone vibrate in her hand. She unlocked the screen and found that he'd shared Aline's number with her through text.

"Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, assface. Leave my room."

She grabbed one of his pillows and threw it at him without running out the door, not stopping until she was safe in her room.

Clary climbed onto her bed and looked at the number on the screen in front of her. She wanted to call Aline really badly, but the whole situation was just a mess. She was second-guessing herself in every way imaginable, and her nerves were killing her. There were a lot of things that she could do with confidence, but this was not one of them.

Especially when she didn't even know what else Jordan could've been hiding, or the kind of person he really was. She'd seen him before as an open book, and now she found out that she didn't know parts of him at all.

It was just very confusing.

She dialed the number, settling back against the cold, comfortable pillows. It was hot out, and the comforting smell of the ocean made her feel more relaxed.

"Hello?"

Clary sat up. "Is this Aline?"

"Yeah, who's this?"

"Clary. Jon's sister."

"Oh, hey. What's up?"

"I have a proposition for you."

* * *

About half an hour after Clary finished her conversation with Aline, her mother called her and her brother down for dinner. Luke had just gotten home from working at the gallery, and his briefcase sat on the couch, but he was helping Jocelyn in the kitchen. Clary moved his briefcase to the floor and sat on the couch, hoping that she wouldn't have to help set the table or anything.

It had been a while since they'd had dinner as a family, but her parents had attempted to give her space to grieve and whatnot, which included her taking her dinner upstairs and eating while watching movies/comedy TV shows. Finally, however, it seemed like they had given up on waiting.

She heard her brother's heavy footsteps before she saw him. She didn't know where the two of them stood, but she felt awkward, like there were still too many unanswered questions and too many unsaid accusations for her to have a normal dinner with him. But it wasn't like she had a choice. She opted to be childish and just ignore him until dinner was over, hoping no one else would notice anything. It was probably the right thing to do, anyway.

"Clary!" Her mother raised her volume. "Dinner's ready!"

"I'm right here," Clary replied, standing up from the couch and making her way into the dining room, where Luke and her brother were already seated. She sat down across from Jonathan, beside her mother's currently empty seat.

Jocelyn entered the room with a soda for Clary and a glass of wine for herself. The four of them sat down and served themselves some food, and that was when Clary realized how starved she was. Had she even eaten anything recently? The hours sort of blended together until she couldn't piece together a coherent string of time at all, so she decided to let it go.

She stared down at her plate for the most part and pushed her food around, answering questions directed towards her from her mother or Luke with one-word replies. She avoided all eye contact with her brother, and about ten minutes into the meal her parents finally seemed to take notice.

"Okay," Jocelyn said, setting her fork down beside her plate. "What's up with the both of you? You've barely said anything all meal. Clary, why won't you look at your brother?"

A tense silence followed as the two siblings finally looked up at each other. Clary glared at Jonathan coldly, and he stared right back at her. Finally, Jonathan broke their mutual silent treatment.

"What did you want to say to Aline, Clary?" he asked, staring her down.

"None of your business, Jonathan," she replied through gritted teeth.

"It _is _my business. You're being your usual selfish self and not thinking about what this could mean for Aline."

"For you, you mean."

"For both of us," he told her, crossing his arms.

After a beat, Luke cleared his throat. "One of you has to explain what's going on. We're not letting you out of this room until you do."

"Jonathan's being an ass," Clary said, throwing down her napkin. "That's all you need to know." She made a move to get up, but her mother's hand on her shoulder pulled her right back down.

"We know that it's been hard," Jocelyn told the two of them. "But—"

"Mom," Clary said, trying to keep her words steady, "you have no idea what these past few weeks have been like. You don't. And now, with Jonathan being an absolute _prick_—"

"Clarissa!" Jocelyn was scandalized.

"—it's been harder."

"As I was _saying_," her mother continued, "I know that it's been very, very difficult, but that is no excuse for this behavior. We all experience loss, but we move on."

"So, what? It's been less than a month and that means I'm supposed to be okay?" Clary tried not to cry or let her voice break as she stood up.

"Clary—"

"What?"

"Stay for dinner," Luke pleaded, speaking up before Jocelyn could.

"I'm not hungry," she said, walking away from her family.

How could they be so selfish? She'd had _one _argument with her brother—and she was right, by the way—and suddenly she was terrible for picking fights (which were totally justified) and not moving on. Her parents weren't even trying. She felt betrayed and empty as she walked into her room. After locking her door, she looked for her iPod, put on her headphones, and hoped that the sound of classical music would calm her pounding head and hurting heart.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! xo_


	7. Love

_clarissadele: __hey look at us finally getting an update schedule (sort of). As always, thanks for reading! Also, I've started an updates link on my Tumblr for this fic, the tag is aiwfic and there are links on both of our bios too if you want to check that out. We also have links to our tumblrs on our bios too so if you wanted to follow us there that would be super rad._

_rippingbutterflywings: Hiii, guys! We do have a (tentative, because we're gonna be traveling a lot) update schedule. We're shooting for weekly updates on Fridays, so yeah. Anyway, thank you guys for reading, and I hope you like this chapter! _

* * *

_Through the good  
__Through the bad and ugly  
__We'll conquer anything  
__'Cause one day, we're gonna come back  
__And laugh at it all  
__One day, we'll look at the past  
__With love, love_

"Love" by American Authors

* * *

The next few days rolled by, and Friday came quicker than Clary expected. She spent the week working on other things for the music festival. She avoided her family as much as she could, staying at Isabelle's house for a couple of nights. Alec and Magnus were back from college, so the house was kind of crammed, but it was nice to be surrounded by her friends.

She met Jace at the venue they had picked out for auditions at two, half an hour before the bands were meant to arrive. "Hey," she said to him, taking a seat at the desk they were meant to be "judging" from.

"Hey," he replied. "Okay, so I printed out a list of all of the bands who are auditioning. Here, take a look." Jace passed her the list of names, and Clary winced at what she saw.

"Hairy Nipples? Skinny Bums? No Life Losers? Your Mom's Fatass Face? What kind of names are these?"

"I've got to say, I read the list and my optimism slowly went down the drain."

Clary groaned and used all her willpower to stop her head from hitting the table. "I'm just picturing a bunch of guys with skinny bums, hairy nipples, and no lives."

"What about the mom's fatass face?"

"I really have nothing for that. I'm just kind of glad to see that Simon's name isn't the worst on here."

"What's his band name?" Jace glanced at the clipboard.

"The Mortal Instruments," Clary said.

"Not bad."

"It used to be Smelly Cat."

"A _Friends _fan?"

"You have no idea. He channels his inner Phoebe every day."

"Yeah, he doesn't seem to be cool enough for Chandler."

Clary fought the urge to smile. "Chandler's, like, the least cool guy in the series."

"What are you talking about? Tell me you wouldn't do Chandler."

"I have terrible taste in guys."

"It's sad that you're aware of that," Jace said, grinning. "Okay, so who's first?"

"Jace, there's eighteen minutes left."

"Don't people show up early to these things?"

"That would be us," Clary replied, rolling her eyes. She picked up the clipboard yet again. "The Funky Pants? Honestly."

"That sounds like one of those bands for first graders."

"Yeah, like the ones at birthday parties." She scrunched up her nose. "I had one for my sixth birthday."

"I always wanted one," he said, mock jealousy in his voice. "What was yours called?"

She shook her head vehemently. "Nope."

"Come _on_," Jace insisted. "I have to know."

Clary stared at him for a few seconds before sighing and angling her chair towards him. "Okay. But you can't tell anyone."

"Not even Simon?"

"_Especially _not Simon. I'm glad that he doesn't remember this."

"Why?"

"He fell that day and suffered from short-term memory loss, and then he just didn't remember it at all. The whole day was traumatizing, though, so I don't really blame him for blocking it out entirely."

"You're babbling," he said.

"Fiiiiine." She tried to look at him without laughing. "It was called The Crazy Banana Fruit Salad."

"_What_?"

"I know," she said, covering her face with her hands. "It's the worst band name of all time."

"They should win an award for that."

Clary groaned. "I think they have."

"I'll make one up and contact them. I'm serious."

"You're a terrible person," she said, looking at the clock that hung from the wall. "We should start letting people in before you ask me what their songs are called."

"Now I have to know!"

"Never!"

Clary sprinted to the entrance of the venue to announce that they were opening. Maia and Isabelle were acting as ushers, so the two of them were letting people in. They each had their own clipboards, which proved helpful, because neither Clary nor Jace wanted to move a lot once auditions began.

She sat back down at her table, ignoring the eager looks Jace was throwing her way. "Not a chance, Wayland."

* * *

A little over two hours, three and a half energy drinks, and four donuts later, Clary and Jace were both exhausted.

"That was terrible. Only, what, three of them were actually good? Why did we even sign up to do this?" Clary vented as they left the venue.

"To be fair, _you_ signed up. _I_ was volunteered," Jace replied. Clary shot him an exasperated look. She'd only really known this guy for less than a week, but they spoke to each other like they had been best friends for years.

"So now what?"

"I don't know. We should discuss the bands again, though," he mused.

"Well, we can't go back to my place. I'm still avoiding my brother. Don't tell me that you were secret friends with him too," Clary said icily, at the same time wondering why she was venting about her personal life to someone she _barely even knew_.

"No, actually, but we did have a spontaneous love affair. After that, he couldn't keep himself away."

Clary glared at him and started to walk faster. Curse her short legs, however, because he was quickly able to catch up. "Come on, Clary, I was just joking."

She slowed down, because there was no use in trying to outrun him when she knew that he could just catch up at a normal pace. "Fine. Okay. Let's go to your place."

"My place?"

"Are you scared my brother will be in bed waiting for you or something? 'Cause you've already confessed to the love affair," she said, walking over to his car.

He shook his head and walked over with her. "Do your parents know you're coming with me?"

"Do you know that you sound like my mom sometimes?"

"I'm sure she's a stunning woman," he replied.

"As are you," Clary told him.

"I'm gonna start blushing," Jace said, getting into the car with her. "Seriously, these compliments are overwhelming."

"I haven't even talked about your penis yet."

He looked like he was about to choke on something. "What?"

"You know, the thing between your legs. The one you used when you and my brother were having that passionate love affair. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about."

"Jesus Christ, Clary."

"Too soon to bring up the affair, huh?"

He shook his head. "You're so weird."

"At least I have a sense of humor," she commented.

"Oh, I have a sense of humor, thank you very much."

"I think you left it behind at the venue along with your dignity."

"It happened when I confessed about sleeping with your brother, didn't it?"

"I think so. But don't worry," Clary said, patting his shoulder. "I'll find you another man."

The two of them drove in the direction of Jace's house. "Hey," Jace said, "can you put some of your music on?" He reached into the compartment that sat between them and handed her the aux cord.

"Sure," she replied, oddly flattered. She connected the auxiliary cord to her iPod and scrolled through the songs in her music library before finding something to play.

_Some say if you don't go then you won't know  
How to let go when you've gotta let it swerve  
Some say if you don't try then you won't know _

_How to get by, no one said it wouldn't hurt, oh no _  
_If I knew then _

_What I should have know now_

_Up and down, jump off the deep end and  
Wreck this out, I should have left with you  
With you  
No way out, I met your best friend  
She went down, but I should have made my move  
With you_

The two of them sang the song off the top of their longs, nodding their heads along to the fast beat. Clary couldn't help but smile as she looked over at Jace, who was mimicking her moves without realizing it. The windows were rolled down after they got to the highway, and the wind slapped her face, her hair flying all over. After a while, she made a sign for Jace to roll them back up, but the two of them sang loudly regardless.

_I'm feeling lucky, lay all my cards down  
Nothing can stop me, tonight we go all out  
I'm feeling lucky, I'll bet my hometown  
Nothing can stop us now _

As the song began nearing its end, Clary began singing with more spirit. It was as if growing closer to the end gave her a burst of energy she didn't know she had. It was an exhausting day, but she always had time for moments like this one.

When the first few notes of the next song rang loudly inside the car, Jace looked over at her. "No way, Clary."

"I love this song."

"I love this entire soundtrack."

She smiled, pleased, as the song began to play.

_Bought a beat up six string, in a secondhand store  
Didn't know how to play it, but I knew for sure  
That one guitar felt good in my hands  
Didn't take long to understand_

_Just one guitar, slung way down low_  
_Was a one-way ticket, only one way to go_  
_So I started rockin', ain't never gonna stop, no_  
_Gotta keep on rockin', someday we're gonna make it to the top_  
_And sing_

_I love rock and roll, so put another dime in the jukebox baby  
I love rock and roll, so come and take your time and dance with me _

"It makes my life that you love this song," she blurted out, unable to help herself. This song always got her in a ridiculously happy mood.

"Right back at you. I mean, not that we shouldn't love it, because it's one of the best songs of all time."

She laughed and continued singing along. Once the song ended, she found herself wishing that the way home was longer, seeing as they were almost in their neighborhood. A Paramore song played in the background as they passed her house. She found herself dreading having to go back, even if that was going to be a few hours from now. Once she got out of Jace's car, she realized that she'd never been inside his house. _Oh God_.

The two of them made their way inside. Clary watched as Jace turned on the lights inside the house as they passed them, and she held the question inside until she felt like she might burst if she didn't ask. "Is anyone else home?"

Jace shook his head. "My parents left early this morning for Singapore. It's a work thing." He shrugged.

"Huh."

"What?"

"That's pretty cool," she said. "Not having parents around for a while."

"Are you sick of yours?"

She sighed. "It's just a hard time. They don't get that I need to do this by myself."

He nodded. "Do they bombard you with questions?"

"Yup. And I know that they don't do it to make me feel like crap, but they drain me. And now there's this thing with my brother, and that just makes them ask more questions." She was breathless by the time they made it up the stairs that led to his room. "It's just...exhausting, I guess."

"It sounds like it," Jace replied. "Well, I have no parents for the week, so you can stay here if you want." He shrugged.

Clary smiled. "Thanks. I'll think about it." As she sat on his desk chair, she began thinking about the prospect of staying over. It wasn't necessarily a bad one, but she didn't really know him. Sure, she'd stayed over at Simon's, and even at Jordan's, but that was after having known them for a while—at least a year.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

She shook her head. "Nothing."

"Okay, well, do you have the papers from today?"

She nodded. "Sorry that I spaced."

"It's fine. Hey," he added, "do you wanna order some pizza?"

"God, yes."

"Okay, just let me call the pizza place and then we can go over the bands again and talk to Maia about it. Ham and pineapple okay?" Jace asked, picking up his phone from where he'd left it on his dresser.

"Sure, that's fine."

She sorted through the papers while Jace made the phone call, sounding far more polite on the phone than he did when they interacted. She took a blank piece of paper from his desk, grabbed her pen, and began ranking the bands in order of preference, with The Mortal Instruments making it to the very top. She could feel the stress of getting this whole thing together coursing through her veins, especially since they only had a few weeks before they had to start rehearsing. They'd decided that the festival would last for three days, and that it would be on the first week of August. It gave them plenty of time to recuperate afterwards so that they could go off to college with the weight of the festival off their shoulders.

"Okay," Jace said, "that's done. What do you have for me?"

She handed him the papers she'd been working on while he sat on his bed. "It's just ranking and what I liked and stuff. Your papers are in there, too. I made a finalized list with the comments and everything."

"You're so good at this," he muttered, skimming through the list.

"Thanks, I guess." She let herself take in a deep breath as Jace read the comments. "I'll notify Simon now."

"Sure." He shrugged. "So we're picking The Mortal Instruments, The Skinny Bums, Kaleidoscope, Pandemonium, and The Beauty Queens?" He raised an eyebrow at the last name.

Clary nodded. "Unless you wanna switch it around."

"Nope," he replied. "I totally agree." He moved closer to her so that they were sitting right in front of one another. "Do you know if we could write letters to other, more well-known bands and ask them to participate?"

She chewed on her fingernail. "It's just so late, you know? People usually take a year to prepare for this."

He sighed, closed his eyes, and nodded. "I know. But we have to try, right?"

"Right." She nodded. "I'll have Izzy draft something up. Let's make a list of bands for this."

"Okay, sure. I don't know...Jordan was into a lot of alternative rock, but his tastes were all over the map."

Clary smiled to herself, remembering the hours that they would spend holed up in her room just listening to music sometimes. "Yeah. There was this one time we were over at my place, and he admitted to me that he secretly loved One Direction." Jace almost fell out of his seat laughing.

"Oh my god. Are you serious?"

"One hundred percent."

"That doesn't sound like something he would have wanted you to tell me."

"Oh, yeah," Clary replied, another boat of laughter coming over her. "Well, shit. Nothing he can do about it now, though."

"Yeah, I guess so." They both sobered up at that.

"So," Clary said after a silence a bit longer than what she would normally call socially acceptable, "we should call Maia now and give her the list of bands. We can also tell her about the idea of asking others to come." Jace nodded in agreement. She heard the doorbell ring from downstairs and realized it was probably the pizza they had ordered.

"I'll go get that. Hang on."

He disappeared through his door, and Clary heard him greeting the delivery guy at the door. After a few minutes, he came back with the pizza box in hand. "Okay, you call Maia and put it on speaker."

Clary scrolled through her contacts after grabbing a slice of pizza from the box. When she came to Maia's name, she hit the call button. It rang twice before she picked up.

_"__Hey, Clary. How's it going?"_

"Hey, Maia. You're on speaker. Jace and I were actually calling to talk about the list of the bands we have so far," Clary said, grabbing the list from where Jace had left it.

_"__Great. Let's hear it."_ Clary recited the names for her. She also mentioned the idea they'd had about sending letters out to bands, and Maia seemed to agree that there was use in trying. They agreed to meet up the next day with Isabelle and Simon to go over things in a bit more detail before Clary ended the call. She looked out the window and realized for the first time how late it was. She'd forgotten the sun had already been setting when they first got to Jace's house.

"Well," she said after carefully tucking the list and her phone away in her bag, "I should get going. It was nice hanging out with you today."

Jace stood up, presumably to walk her to the door. "Yeah, it was." They were at the door now, and, just as she was reaching for the handle to open it, he placed a hand on her shoulder. "Oh, and Clary? If you really need to get away from your place for a while, my offer still stands."

Clary gave him a small smile. "Thanks. I'll think about it." She opened the door and stepped outside. "Goodnight."

Jace smiled back at her, leaning against the doorframe. "Night, Clary."

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	8. Those Nights

_clarissadele: Look at us sticking to schedule! Rippingbutterflywings almost forgot to update but I reminded her lmao. I really hope you all enjoy the chapter! Thanks always for your reads and kind words!_

_rippingbutterflywings: I did, unfortunately, almost forget to update. But a) I just got back from watching the new Pitch Perfect movie (which was amazing), b) I got into a fight with my mother and it made me angry enough to forget about all things AIW, and c) I graduate on Sunday! (Which, ironically, is why I was arguing with my mom.) Anyway! I have a lot of things on my mind (related to point c, at least), so sorry that I almost forgot to upload this! Also, if I haven't already mentioned this: you guys should read the Mara Dyer trilogy by Michelle Hodkin. Soooo good. Thanks again to everyone for reading/reviewing/favoriting/following this story! You are super great and we love you hard._

_*We would also like to note that we don't know the schedule of the bands we wrote about in this chapter. We don't know if they'd even **do **this sort of thing, but this is a work of fiction, so there's that._

_We hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

_Remember when we'd  
Stay up late and we'd talk all night  
In a dark room lit by the TV light  
Through all the hard times in my life  
Those nights kept me alive_

_Listen to the radio play all night_  
_Didn't wanna go home to another fight_  
_Through all the hard times in my life_  
_Those nights kept me alive_

"Those Nights" by Skillet

* * *

The moment Clary stepped through the door of her house, she remembered how much she really _didn't _want to face her family.

Ever since their fight, she'd only contacted her family members when necessary. She updated her mom on where she was, because she knew that not doing so would get her into more trouble than reasonable. Aside from that and announcing her presence at home, she didn't talk to them at all.

But, when she got home that night, her parents and brother were sitting at the dinner table, seemingly waiting for her. She adjusted her bag's shoulder strap and walked towards the table. "You're making me eat dinner with you?"

Jocelyn patted the empty seat beside her. "We've given you enough time, Clary, but we're a family, and we're eating dinner together."

Clary wanted to fight back, to ask her what the point of eating dinner like a family was if they all wanted to punch each other in the throat, but she was too tired to care. "I just ate."

Her mother raised an eyebrow at her. "And where were you?"

"At a friend's house. We ordered pizza. I texted you where I was," she replied, eyes narrowing. "I'm not hungry."

"Well, stay anyway."

"I'm _really _tired," Clary told her, hating that she sounded so pathetic. But she _was _tired.

"You can't use that excuse forever. Now sit," her mother said, voice stern. "And that's an order."

And that was the exact moment in which Clary lost it.

"An order?" She let out a laugh out of disbelief. "An _order_? You think you've actually earned the right to boss me around lately?"

"It's not about rights," Jocelyn replied, not getting up from her chair. "I'm your mother, and you'll do as I say."

"And, as I recall, that means growing some balls and getting over my best friend's death _right now _so that I stop being an inconvenience, right?"

It all happened too fast for her to register. She heard the sound of wood scraping against the tiled floor, saw her mom getting up, and felt the stinging pain as her mother's hand made contact with her cheek. Jocelyn had never, ever, _ever _hit Clary, and yet there they were.

She felt tears pooling in her eyes, but she prayed to pretty much every divine creature in existence that they wouldn't fall. She gathered her thoughts, remembering Jace's oh-so-inviting offer. Back when he'd made it, she thought that it was far too soon, but she didn't care. Isabelle would take too long to pick her up, and Simon lived just as far. She grabbed her phone from her pocket, gripped it tightly, and looked at her mother with hatred written all over her face.

"Don't wait up," was all she said before walking out the door.

She ran fast, the soles of her Converse pounding against the cement. The summer air was hot and heavy and humid, but she ran anyway, the smell of the ocean and sound of the waves distracting her from the fact that she felt a knot in her throat. She was going to lose it. She was going to break.

There were a lot of things Clary hated about being a teenager. No autonomy, high school, stupid people—those were just a few of the things she hated. But the one she hated the most, the one that made her _furious_, was the fact that she felt everything more than anyone. It wasn't that she felt everything; she wasn't one to get emotional over trivial things. But when she actually felt things, they hit her hard, and she couldn't do anything about it.

It didn't hit her until she rang Jace's doorbell frantically that he would be seeing her in this state, with tears running ceaselessly and carelessly down her face. She didn't know if her cheek was still red, but it stung, and she couldn't calm herself down regardless of how hard she tried.

And then he opened the door.

He was wearing his pajamas, which consisted of a black t-shirt and checkered-patterned sweatpants. He looked at her with confusion.

"Clary?"

"Is it too late for me to take you up on that offer?"

In an instant, his expression changed. He nodded and ushered her in, locking his door after the two of them were safely inside. "Do you want something to drink?"

She nodded. "Some water would be awesome."

They walked into his kitchen, and he handed her a glass of cold water as soon as she'd finished examining his kitchen, her eyes roaming over the massive fridge, pantry, and marble countertops. The cold water felt amazing against her aching throat, and she closed her eyes.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go up to my room and then we can talk."

She wanted to tell him that she didn't wanna talk, but it wasn't entirely true. Yeah, she didn't want to let him into the total pile of shit that was her life, but she also needed to get it off her chest. She ached all over; she was exhausted from her day and the long run, and she was still upset over her mom, and—

Nope. She wouldn't cry.

They sat on his bed, their knees almost touching. It was the first time she'd ever been in bed with a boy that wasn't a family member or Simon or Jordan, and it felt odd. Nice, but odd. She had to collect her thoughts before speaking, because the sudden comfort of the cold air in Jace's room and the water distracted her.

"What's wrong?"

That was all it took for the tears to resurface.

Through hiccuping sobs, she told him everything. She told him about her parents and their ridiculous overprotectiveness and about how, every single time they'd been like this before, she'd run to Jordan, and he'd receive her with open arms, and now he was gone, and he left a huge, gaping hole in her life, and she didn't know how she was ever going to get over that. She didn't know anything. She was lost in her own life, and she was terrified. She was moving away in August to go to college in Boston, but she just didn't know how she was going to do all of that with her best friend buried six feet underground. She didn't know, and it felt like the fabric of her existence was coming undone, making her feel as if she were unraveling slowly.

Clary felt Jace's arm wrap around her shoulders as they shook, tears still falling down her face. She let his presence comfort her as she cried for what seemed like hours. It was funny, she thought, how everything always ended up leading back to Jordan.

The thought just made her cry harder.

She didn't know how much time passed by before she craned her neck up to look at Jace, but every part of her body felt stiff, unused. She felt terrible for making Jace stay in the same position for a long time, but he didn't seem to mind.

He looked at her as she sniffled and wiped her (mostly dry) tears from her face. "Are you okay?" Jace asked, brows furrowed in concern.

Clary nodded. She didn't know whether she was lying or not, but it didn't matter. "I'm okay."

"Do you still wanna stay?"

"Do _you _want me to stay?"

He gave her a small smile. "Yup."

She sighed. "I didn't bring any pajamas."

"Are you cool with wearing one of my hoodies?"

Clary shrugged. "Sure." It'd definitely cover everything; he was about a foot taller than she was.

He handed her a black hoodie and a towel for her to shower. She walked into his bathroom, locked the door, and undressed. She winced when her bare feet hit the cold tile floor, but she kept going. When the water was hot enough, she got into the shower, standing under the water motionless for a few minutes before actually showering.

When she got out, the cold hit her suddenly. She wrapped herself up in the navy blue towel and began drying herself off. After hand-drying her hair and dragging Jace's brush through it, she put on her bra and hoodie. She thanked God and everything that was holy that her period was close, because it meant that she carried an extra set of panties in her bag. She put those on and opened the door to the bathroom.

Jace was sitting on the edge of his bed when she got out of the bathroom. "There's a spare room just across the hall that you can stay in if you want," he said, putting down the book that he had been reading.

"Great, thanks." Clary went across the hall to the spare room to stash her bag before returning to Jace's room and sitting on the chair at his desk. "I really appreciate you doing this for me."

"Hey, no problem. It gets pretty lonely around here sometimes. Anyway, you said that you're going to university in Boston?"

"Yeah. I got in at Boston University."

"Really? I'll actually be going to Northeastern."

Clary looked over at him and her jaw fell slack. "No way. That's crazy; we're going to be in the same city. Was Northeastern your first choice?"

"Yeah, it was. I was so surprised that I actually got in. What about you?"

"No. I wanted to go to NYU. I actually got in, but I couldn't afford it even after they gave me my financial aid package."

"Well, I've heard Boston University is pretty great. What are you going to major in?" he asked.

"An Art Education major with a minor in painting. My mom's a painter, and I guess I've always kind of loved art, too. You?"

"Biology major, then I'd go to med school after. I've always liked helping people, and I'd be making money, so I'd definitely be happy," he said, grinning widely

"Or, you know, you could just marry someone really rich. Like Bill Gates or something."

"Isn't Bill Gates already married?"

"Well, yes, but I'm assuming you'd be able to find a place to hide his wife's body. Then you'd be able to use your stunning good looks to seduce him, and you'd be home free."

"Oh, don't forget my dick," he replied dryly.

"Well, yes, there's also that."

"Clary Fray, you are quite the character."

Clary grinned at him. She felt her phone buzz from where she had put it in the pocket of Jace's hoodie. She checked the screen, then looked back up at him. "Isabelle wants us all to meet at her place tomorrow to discuss plans."

"Okay, works for me."

Clary checked the clock on his bedside table and was shocked to realize that it was already one in the morning. "I think I'm going to head to bed now. It's getting pretty late."

"Yeah, just a bit," he replied, smiling. "Goodnight, Clary."

"Night. Thanks again for letting me stay."

* * *

Clary was up earlier than she had thought she would be the next morning. She quickly changed back into her clothes from the day before before heading down the stairs. There was drawer of her things in Isabelle's room due to past occurrences with her family, so she'd change once they arrived at her best friend's house. Isabelle was well accustomed to the fights that went down in the Fray-Garroway household.

She walked down the stairs to find that Jace was already up, perched at the counter while eating a bowl of cereal. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, thanks."

"Want some?" Jace questioned, motioning to the cereal box he had left out.

"Sure," she answered. Clary poured herself a bowl of cereal, and they ate in silence. When both of them finished their breakfast, they put their bowls in the sink, and it was only then that Clary got a glimpse through the door to the other room. Sitting in the middle of his living room was grand piano, and it might have been the most beautiful instrument Clary had ever seen. She really hoped that she didn't faint from excitement. Jesus, that would be embarrassing.

She cleared her throat, hoping to sound a bit less awestruck than she really was. "So who plays piano in your family?" she asked

"Me, actually," Jace replied, and Clary found that she was even more surprised than she had been originally (if that were even possible). But God help her, for Jace had already gone over to the piano and started to tinkle on the keys, and the world be damned if it wasn't the most beautiful thing she had ever heard.

"Can I—can I touch it?"

Jace looked at her for a second before he burst into a fit of laughter."Yes, Clary. You may touch it," he said, still trying to control his laughter.

Clary sat down at the piano bench and forced Jace to move over before lightly playing the chords she remembered from the couple of years she had taken piano. Jace began playing a light melody higher on the piano with his right hand. She stopped playing and turned to him.

"Why didn't you say you could play piano? God, Jace, you're really good. Why don't you play at the festival?"

"I don't know," he said, staring down at the keys he was still lightly pressing down on with his hands. "I mean, we're looking for bands, and I don't really sing. It's just me and the piano. It's not really the vibe we were going for, you know?"

"Well, yeah, but still you're _really good_. Like professional good."

A corner of his mouth quirked up as he smiled slightly at her compliment."Thanks, Clary. Anyway, we should go. Isabelle and the others should be expecting us soon."

"Okay. You get the car keys and I'll hide the bodies."

"Funny."

* * *

Jace was right in saying that the others would be expecting them at Isabelle's house. Everyone was already there when they finally arrived. Clary took a seat next to Isabelle and tried to ignore the playful jibe she whispered in Clary's ear about arriving late after staying over at a hot guy's house.

"Did you do the do?"

Clary's eyes widened slightly. "No, Iz, we did not."

"Did you do the thing that comes before the do?"

She frowned. "This is so not the time."

"You _did_."

"Isabelle Sophia Lightwood, I will set your shoes on fire if you don't shut up."

"I would be offended if I didn't have something to blackmail you with."

"You have nothing on me."

Just as Isabelle was about to reply, probably with a comment about how Clary _just knew _that there was blackmail material there, Maia began speaking. Thank God for Maia.

"Okay, guys. So we have a preliminary lineup for the show, thanks to Clary and Jace. I've been talking to a few people, and we've been able to add some more bands to our show." She typed up a few things on her laptop before speaking again. "So we have Aline's band, Bat's band, The Mortal Instruments, The Skinny Bums, Kaleidoscope, Pandemonium, The Beauty Queens, We Are The In Crowd, and Walk Off The Earth."

Clary tried not to be amazed by the fact that they'd gotten two of her favorite bands to play. Instead, she decided to take this time to clarify the question she saw written on her friends' expressions. "So Aline's more of a maybe right now," she explained. "She told me she'd think about it. My brother was part of the old band, but that's most likely not gonna happen, so she's thinking of maybe—if she actually _does _decide to play—just making it the girls that were in the band before." She shrugged. "I don't know if that means it's a definite yes or no, but yeah."

Everyone in the room nodded, and Maia continued speaking after looking at her computer screen. "We have a venue, thankfully, so that's set up. It's gonna be outdoors, which is super nice. We do still need food and water and alcohol for the legal people. Emphasis on _legal_."

Isabelle rolled her eyes. "Technicalities."

Maia smiled. "I'm serious, Iz."

"I know."

"I actually know someone," Jace said. "Her parents own a restaurant. It's more of a diner, actually, but they could probably cater for us. If not for free, then for really, really cheap."

"Dude," Clary said to him. "Make the call."

"Agreed," Maia replied.

"What's the name of the place?" Simon asked, brows furrowed. "I mean, is it any good?"

"Takis," Jace replied. "I'm pretty sure we've all been there at some point."

"Yoooo," Clary told him. "I _love _Takis."

"I'm craving Takis now," Isabelle said sadly. "Damn you, Jace."

"Damn you to hell." Clary nodded along with her best friend.

Maia was uncharacteristically quiet. She seemed as if she were in a daze, actually. Clary wanted to speak to her, but, in that moment, she seemed to snap out of it and turned to Jace. "Make the call."

"Now?"

"If possible."

He stood up and walked into the kitchen, trying to have a quiet conversation, apparently. Clary took this as an opportunity to go ask Maia what was wrong.

Maia's curls bounced as she shook her head. "Nothing."

"Bullshit," Clary whispered.

She sighed. "It's just—it's nothing. He used to take me to Takis for our anniversary every month."

"Oh."

She shook her head again. "Don't worry. I love it. It couldn't have been more perfect."

Clary was hesitant to believe her, but she nodded anyway. She retreated back to her earlier seat beside Isabelle as the four of them waited for Jace to return.

"Where are Alec and Magnus, anyway?" Clary asked Isabelle.

She shrugged. "I think they went to a reunion today or something. I don't know."

"Huh."

The two of them had apparently agreed to help with all the tech stuff, which was definitely needed (and appreciated). Clary wondered when she was going to _really _hang out with them again—or with her actual best friends, for that matter. The two of them just looked so happy on their own, so into their own relationship—_too _into it, in fact, to notice that they'd been leaving her out all along. She shook her head, hoping that those thoughts would disappear.

Jace's return was a definitely welcome change of pace. "Hey," he said. "So Kaelie's gonna talk to her parents about it, but she sounded very optimistic about it. She said she'll let me know, so I'll call you once I get the word back."

"Thanks, Jace." Maia gave him a smile. "Well, I also wanna set this up on social media. I wanna get the word out, you know? So I want one of you to set up a Tumblr, Facebook, and Twitter for it."

"Me." Simon raised his hand. "I'll do it."

"Geek," Clary said lovingly.

"Always."

While Simon set up the social media sites with Izzy's help, Clary walked over to where Jace sat on the floor. He leaned against the wall, and she joined him, pulling her knees up so that they reached her chin.

"Hey," she said.

"Hi."

"You'd be good, you know."

He smiled, knowing exactly what she was talking about without her having to say it out loud. "I know."

"Your humility is inspirational."

"_I'm _an inspiration."

"Outstanding," she commented.

"I am."

She rolled her eyes. "Do you ever get sick of listening to yourself?"

"I don't know. Do music lovers get tired of listening to music?"

Clary shook her head. "That was pathetic."

"Yeah, that wasn't my best."

She smiled and leaned her head back against the wall once again. "How do you think Maia's doing?"

"Probably not too well." He shook his head. "I'm not really close with her, but I know she has friends to help her through it. I made sure of it."

Clary nodded. "She has Bat, and she has us, but it's just hard to go through something like that. And she's not the type to just _say _what she's feeling."

"She's not like you."

"Is that a good thing?"

Jace seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "It's not, no. I think that every person has the right to be different, you know, just because we _are _individuals. But I also think that keeping everything bottled up the way she's doing isn't helping anybody. It's making her feel crappier, even if she doesn't notice it right away, and it's making the people around her worry. And it's not—it's not what Jordan would've wanted."

She turned her head to the side to face him. "No," she said softly. "It's not."

After Simon finished setting up the social media sites and we all liked/followed them, Maia decided that it was time to go, telling Jace to follow up on the Takis thing.

"Iz," Clary said to her. "I need to use the emergency stash."

Isabelle knew exactly what her best friend was talking about. "Go."

Clary said goodbye to Maia and went upstairs and into Izzy's bedroom. She had her own drawer and everything, and Isabelle had the same kind of treatment at her house, even though it was usually Clary who ran over to Izzy's rather than the other way around. Anyway, she grabbed a clean pair of jeans and a light t-shirt and shut the door. After she changed, she was glad that her Converse went along with everything. She made her way down the stairs after dumping her dirty clothes in Isabelle's hamper.

Jace was still there, along with Isabelle and Simon. She met his gaze as she walked down the stairs; he wanted to talk to her. While her two best friends remained in the kitchen area, she and Jace were in the living room. Not too close, but not too far.

"Do you need a ride?"

She shrugged. "Let me check with Isabelle." Clary walked over to the kitchen and asked her friend if she had any plans.

"I was hoping you'd stay over tonight," she replied with a grin. "It's been a while, and I miss seeing your freckled face when it's not staring at Jace's beautiful one."

"I'm right here," Simon said, feigning offensiveness.

She rolled her eyes. "Tell me you wouldn't go gay for him."

"I would not. I'm too straight for you."

Clary rolled her eyes at their grossness. "Okay. I'll tell him."

"Good. Don't think I've forgotten about the thing before the do."

"What?" Simon asked, confused.

Clary didn't answer him; instead, she marched over to where Jace stood. "Hey," she said. "I'm staying here tonight."

He shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I should go, then."

She nodded. "Sure. And thank you," she added. "For last night."

"The offer will always stand," he replied. "Even if we're in Boston."

"If I can handle your crazy ego by that point."

"You're tough."

She laughed. "Sure." She led him to the front door. "Bye, Jace."

"Bye, Clary."

* * *

Ironically, Clary, Simon, and Isabelle ended up going to Takis for lunch. They sat at a booth by a window, and Clary watched as people walked by. She loved sitting by windows. She ordered her food and gave the menu back to their waiter, whose name was Meliorn, and he smiled at her politely before retreating to the back.

"It's been so long," Isabelle said, making a very dramatic facial expression.

Clary rolled her eyes. "I see you all the time."

She seemed offended by this. "Not all the time."

Clary sighed. "Okay, okay, you're right. I rarely see you. And I'm sorry." She let out a breath. "Things have been...impossible. Ish. I've liked having time to relax and decompress by myself."

"It kind of feels like you're avoiding us," Simon said.

"I'm not," she lied. "You guys are my absolute best friends; I'd never avoid you."

"Then why does it feel like it?" Isabelle asked pointedly.

There was no way that she would get away with lying. None. So she decided to give them a partial version of the truth. "Okay," she said. "The truth is that I thought you guys would be grieving with each other. I mean, you also haven't reached out all that much, either, so I assumed that you were dealing with it together. You're a strong couple, and that's the kind of thing that strong couples do sometimes, and I didn't wanna get in the way of that process. I did things my own way, and so did you, but you're still my best friends, you know?" Meliorn came by to set down their drinks, and Clary smiled at him before returning to her friends. "I just don't want you to think that I ignored you because I don't consider you my friends. I didn't try to push hanging out because I thought it was better for us to deal with this in our own ways." She sipped her Coke and waited for her friends to reply.

Isabelle was the first one to speak; she always was. "Clary," she said, but it sounded more like a sigh. "Don't ever think that we don't want you around, okay? This has been hard, yeah, but it's even harder to go through this while worrying about one of the most important people in your life dealing with this on their own."

"I'm not dealing with it on my own."

"Who's helping you get through this?" Isabelle asked.

Clary decided that she might as well say it. "Jace. Sorta. It's mostly just me, but he's been helping."

Her best friend raised an eyebrow at that. "How so?"

She glared at Izzy. "Not in the way you're thinking."

"So the thing people do before doing the do didn't happen?"

Clary smiled. "Nope. This is purely platonic. I love it."

"God, you're weird." Isabelle shook her head. "But I'm glad that he's helping you out. It was super nice of him to let you stay over."

"It was," she replied, thinking back to the previous night. She'd slept amazingly at his house, and she'd liked being there—just the two of them. It wasn't really because she _like _liked him or anything, but because he made her feel comfortable. He made her calm down. He brought out the good things in her, and she liked being around him.

She didn't want to think of it as him filling the hole that Jordan had left when he died, but Jace was a welcome presence in her life for sure.

"Anyway," Simon continued, "I know that us being a couple can be off-putting sometimes. I know that it's hard for you to decide on spending time with us and all, but I promise, Clary, that we will _always _need you. And we always want to spend time with you."

Isabelle nodded. "Agreed."

Clary knew that her friends meant it. Despite being overwhelmed by pretty much everything else that was happening, she felt content, at peace with herself in the moment.

But she knew that Isabelle would bring this up later.

And she did. After they ate at Takis, Simon dropped them off, and Clary said goodbye to him before making her way back inside Isabelle's ridiculously huge house.

The two of them made their way upstairs. Clary still held on to the bag she had yesterday, where she'd been stuffing her dirty clothes up until she dumped them in Izzy's hamper. Anyway, she got on Isabelle's bed, and her best friend did the same.

"Clary," she said after a beat. "What's the real reason you've been avoiding us?"

She turned to her best friend, frowning. "What do you mean?"

Isabelle sighed. "What you said was nice and all, but there's more to it than that. I know you."

Clary knew that her best friend was right. Even that same afternoon, after they'd said that they'd include her more and that they always needed her and blah blah blah, they started kissing in front of her and just doing gross couple things while they were supposed to be with her. And she loved the two of them together—they were like an unstoppable team—but it was weird to see them making out in front of her _all the time_.

She sighed. "It's nothing, Iz." Nothing worth talking about, anyway.

"Bulllshit. Spill it."

Clary refused to look at her best friend as she decided to tell her a condensed version of everything. "Well, you guys are like—you're like in your own little universe, you know? And you're one of the best couples in the world, and I love you guys together, but it's uncomfortable to be there as a third wheel. An outsider. We're supposed to be going out as friends, and yet you guys just start randomly kissing." She hated the way she sounded, because she sounded jealous, and she wasn't. "It's just weird. But what I said before is also true."

Isabelle seemed to reflect on this. "I'll talk to Simon. I mean, I can definitely see how we do that, so I'll talk to him and see how we can dial it down."

She sighed, relieved. "Thanks, Iz."

Her best friend nodded. "No problem. I know you're not trying to complain for no reason, you know? If it's actually bothering you, then we'll try to fix it."

"You're the best. Both of you."

"But especially me, right?"

"We're so not doing this."

"We still have to talk about yesterday. And Jace. Did you sleep on his bed?"

"Oh my God, Iz. No. Different rooms."

"I would've hit that so hard already," she replied casually.

"You're ridiculous. We're just friends."

"Suit yourself. But, seriously, he's hot."

"I know."

As she saw my ears go pink, she snorted. "Right. Just friends, my ass."

"I can admit that he's insanely hot while also just wanting to be his friend."

"Sure you can, Clary. Sure you can." She sighed. "I'll support your delusions. For now."

They didn't speak of the subject again; instead, they marathoned movies on Netflix until neither one of them could keep her eyes open.

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	9. Rumor Mill

_clarissadele: __I hope you all enjoy the chapter. The big stuff is coming next time we update, but this one also has a lot going on. Thanks for reading!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Sorry for the short chapter, but it's really setting up for some of the big stuff in the story, which I'm excited for. Thanks to all of you for reading/reviewing/all of that stuff! You're all awesome. _

_Hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

_Sick of all the pressure  
__You're just wasting time  
__And I don't ever wanna know what it feels like  
__To be a shadow of myself_

"Rumor Mill" by We Are The In Crowd

* * *

Standing outside of the front entrance to her own house was not something Clary had planned on doing when she woke up that morning—if you could even call noon morning, because that was when she and Isabelle had finally hauled their asses out of bed. They were alone in the house when they went downstairs. Maryse Lightwood had most likely already left for work, and Alec and Magnus had probably taken Max to the comic book store or God knows where. Robert Lightwood was gone on a business trip _again_; Clary had lost track of how many he had been on just in _that month. _

Clary and Isabelle had eaten breakfast together, and with a promise that she would call her best friend soon and they would hang out, she left. Simon picked her up; they had plans to walk around for a while and spend some time together just the two of them. It seemed that both of her friends were trying to make up for neglecting her for the other. Simon had parked his car at the park, and they'd walked around for a while, just talking about things like the latest video games and mangas, things that they hadn't had the chance to discuss since before recent events had occurred. Clary couldn't even remember the last time she had so much as _picked up_ a video game console.

She was reminded now, standing outside her house, of the children that had been playing in the park she and Simon had walked past. What Clary wouldn't give to feel that young and carefree again. She had gotten this far, so she might as well take the last few steps and actually go inside _her own house. _People she didn't want to face and discussions she didn't want to have were beyond that door, but what would putting them off really do? Clary took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

She closed it behind her and heard a set of footsteps as someone came down the hall to meet her. She wasn't surprised that it was her mother. "Clary?" Jocelyn asked

She sighed. "Yeah, Mom. It's me."

"What the hell did you think you were doing? You rushed out of here, no explanation of where you were going. You haven't answered any of my texts or calls! I haven't heard from you in two days, Clary! _Two days!_" Her mother let out a breath, and just when Clary thought she was done with her rant, Jocelyn started to scold her again.

"I get that this past month has been really hard for you, but you can't just not tell me where you're going. I'm your mother, Clary, and I only want to help."

"You don't understand what this is like for me," Clary whispered.

"So then help me understand! You can't keep pushing me away! I just want to help! And Jonathan—"

Clary let out a bitter laugh. "Jonathan can go suck a dick."

Her mother looked appalled at what had just come out of her mouth. "I don't know what you and your brother are fighting about, and I know that this has been rough on you, but you will not speak like that in my house!"

"You don't know what he—God, Mom! He was friends with Jordan, okay? He was friends with Jordan and he never told me! They had this whole other friend group and I never even knew about it! He kept his friendship with my _best friend_ a secret, and he didn't even bother to tell me—not even after Jordan's death."

Jocelyn leaned against the wall and pressed her fingertips to her temples. "Okay. I can see how that could upset you. But, Clary, this attitude of yours needs to stop."

"I get that you feel like I've been distant with you, Mom, but I just need you to give me space. I can't deal with this by talking to you about it, okay? I just need to deal with it with my friends."

"I—alright." Clary started to head up the stairs to her room, but her mother caught her by the arm. "I know you don't want to, but you can talk to me, Clary."

She offered Jocelyn a small smile. "I know that, Mom."

Jonathan rounded the corner just as she was about at her bedroom, and she wasn't even sorry when she "accidentally" rammed her shoulder against his. Her mother's wishes about an attitude change be damned. This situation was _not _her fault, and she wouldn't be the one to start talking to him again.

As much as she hated to admit it, Clary actually did like her brother, so she hoped this wouldn't drag on for long, but there was no way in hell she would apologize for something she _did not do._

She entered her room, locked the door, and went straight for her bed. She loved the way the blankets felt against her exhausted body, and she closed her eyes, letting the silence fill the moment.

She was glad that her mom was finally laying off, but she didn't know what she'd do about her brother. She knew that he could hold grudges and just stop talking to people, but he had no right to be mad at her. _He _was the one keeping secrets, not her.

She put on her headphones and listened to classical music. There was a heaviness lodged in her chest that she couldn't shake off, so she took out her sketchbook and drawing pencils, hoping that pulling the feelings out of her heart and into paper would help. But, when she lifted the pencil and tried to picture something, she just _couldn't_. It was as if something prevented her from doing the things she loved the most.

She tried, though. She tried for twenty minutes before angrily chucking the sketchbook and pencils at the wall. She didn't hear the sound of them hitting the wall and floor because of her music, but she felt like she was going to burst.

She swallowed it down, but the heaviness wouldn't go away. It stayed there, as stubborn as ever, and she felt herself begin to shake. If she didn't do something, she was going to fall apart. Panic began to settle as she found herself unable to come up with an activity that was distracting enough to take her mind off everything.

Just then, thankfully, she felt her phone buzz beside her. It was a text from Jace, asking if she wanted to go over.

And she had never responded to a text faster.

* * *

After letting Jocelyn know that she was headed out, Clary found herself in Jace's doorstep, ringing the doorbell only twice. Because she had to control herself.

But she was restless. She knew that Jace could tell when he opened the door and gave her a once-over, but he didn't say anything. She walked into his house.

"What's up?" Clary asked.

Jace walked upstairs with her. "I want you to do something with me."

Despite her shitty state of mind, she decided to reply. "As long as it doesn't involve the butt."

Jace cracked a grin. "Well, damn, I thought you were the type."

She rolled her eyes at him, but managed to smile anyway. The two of them entered his room, and she saw an too-familiar box sitting on top of his bed. The lid was shut, but she knew what was inside.

It was Jordan's box.

Everything important of his was in there.

"Jace," Clary said, her voice impossibly small. "Why do you have that?"

He frowned. "I took it that day. Never gave it back."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "We wanted to get to know him better, remember?"

She nodded. But she already _knew _Jordan.

Except she didn't.

She was very aware of the fact that he kept things from her. It started out with a friend group, but she wasn't naive enough to think that it would stay as shallow as that. There were probably deeper things that he never shared with her, things she would not want to know now.

Or did she?

"I don't know if I wanna know anymore, though."

He looked over at her. "What?"

Clary met Jace's gaze. "Look, Jace, I know that this is important. But…" She trailed off, trying to find the right words to say. "Okay. I don't know if I'm ready to read his thoughts."

"But he was your best friend," he replied.

"And yet he had friends I knew nothing about. He was friends with my _brother_, and I only found out after his death." She sighed. "I just don't know if I'm ready to find out more about him."

Jace nodded. "That makes sense."

"It does?"

"It's scary to think about not really having known your best friend."

"I don't want his image to change in my mind," she explained, nodding.

"It doesn't have to. You and I both know that Jordan was a good person. Just remember him as your best friend, not as the person he was when you weren't around."

"Okay," she said, taking a deep breath. "Let's do it."

The two of them walked towards the bed. Clary sat beside the box, and Jace reached into the box and pulled out Jordan's journal. After setting the box down on the floor, he sat beside her.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yup."

He opened the leather-bound journal to the first page and positioned it between the two of them, giving Clary an equal view of the words written on the pages as well. They looked at each other, and she felt like laughing. She was nervous, but she wouldn't let it show, not after saying that she was okay with this. So she bent her head down at the words. It was difficult to see his writing again, but she powered through it. She took a deep breath and looked at Jace again. He was looking down at the writing, probably already reading.

So she tied her hair up in a ponytail, bent her head down, and started reading.

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	10. Missing

_clarissadele: __Okay so I'm not sure if this is completely necessary but to be safe I think I'm going to leave a TRIGER WARNING on this chapter because there are quite a few touchy topics. This was one of the chapters that I think we both knew we were going to write at the beginning so I hope we did it justice. Thanks for keeping with us as always!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hi, guys! Apart from what clarissadele said (which very true and important and I also hope this chapter came out as well as we wanted it to!), I just wanna note that it was such a pain to write those journal scenes. Oh my God. Writing from Jordan's POV (in first person) is so weirdly difficult. Anyway, clarissadele will be updating for me in the next few weeks (though I'll still leave ANs!) because I'm going on an awesome trip to NYC + a few places in Europe, and I won't have any wifi for a while. Anyway, hope you like this chapter! _

* * *

_Please, please forgive me,  
__But I won't be home again.  
__Maybe someday you'll look up,  
__And, barely conscious, you'll say to no one:  
__"Isn't something missing?"_

"Missing" by Evanescence

* * *

_August 27, 2013_

_Today was worse. It was the first day of my last year of high school, and the anxiety just wouldn't go away. I couldn't tell my mother; she would have insisted that I started to see the counsellor again, and there was no way I could hide that from my friends. But I just couldn't cope. I tried to talk to Maia about it, but she has been so busy with sports lately, and things between us are still tense. I just can't forgive her yet, but I still need her. I don't know who I am anymore, and I don't want to continue to be someone I'm not. But I have to. My friends wouldn't understand. How could they? I couldn't go up to them and tell them that, no matter how happy I seem, I just feel so hollow on the inside. I don't know if I'm that sports guy anymore. I don't know if I'm the same person that they want to be friends with. Not after this summer._

They'd been reading for about an hour, and everything seemed okay until they stumbled upon this entry.

The first day of their senior year. Clary remembered him smiling that day, with his arm around Maia when they'd met up for lunch. She didn't remember if there had been any signs of anxiety or sadness in his eyes; there couldn't have been, though. She'd always remembered him as happy. Easygoing. Laid back. The life of every party they went to. He was always, always happy.

How could she have missed this?

She knew, of course, that people weren't always happy. Even as she thought it, she realized that he got upset over some things. Sometimes he was bummed when he couldn't learn a song easily or did badly in an exam or had too much homework or fought with Maia. But he was never upset for long, so these events never lingered in her memory.

She was wrong, though. She looked to Jace, wondered if he was making sense of any of this, but his creased brow gave her all the answers that she needed.

"I don't understand," he said. "Jordan, anxious?"

"It's not always visible on the outside. Maia must have known, though. Why did he feel like he couldn't tell the rest of us? I was one of his best friends!" Or at least she _thought_ she had been.

"Hey, remember what we said before we opened this thing? None of this should change your view of him."

"I know, but why would he think he couldn't talk to me?"

"Let's just keep reading," Jace said, and he flipped to another entry.

_October 6, 2013_

_Life just keeps getting shittier and shittier. _

_I don't know if I can trust Maia. I've tried to be okay with what happened over the summer, but how can she be the only one I forgive? I cut all my ties with my other friends because of what happened. My band friends are gone, but I kept Maia around. And I love her, but I don't know if I can trust her, and I think she knows that. But I can't lose her. She makes all of this sadness that much more bearable. _

_But there's other shit going on too. I keep getting distracted when I'm playing soccer, which means that the coach yells at me every fucking time. My grades are slipping, and college applications are due in two months, and I'm not good enough for any of them. I can't fucking stand this anymore. Since when has just _living _become so hard? _

"What the hell?" Clary whispered, meeting Jace's gaze.

He was as confused as she was. "I mean, the soccer thing _did _happen, but I didn't know that it was going on at the same time as all of this."

"Me neither." She shook her head. "What does this mean? He doesn't write for two months, and then he's just so…"

"Depressed," he finished for her. "He was depressed."

But she couldn't see that. She knew that he, like any other person, got upset over things, but she just couldn't picture her best friend going through deep shit like this. She couldn't picture any of this hitting him so hard that he would feel _depressed_. She thought he just shrugged all of it off and kept going.

But it wasn't true.

She laid down on Jace's bed, staring at his white ceiling. The silence was both pleasing and unbearable. She felt like anything could break her. Jace let out a loud sigh, and it took all of Clary's strength not to fling the diary across the room. Of all of the things she had prepared herself for before opening the diary, this was not something that she had ever even _thought _was a possibility.

Her best friend. The happiest person she had _ever _known. Depressed.

"How?"

Jace shrugged. "It happens."

She was well aware of that. "But he didn't _seem_ depressed, you know?"

"No one ever _seems_ depressed, Clary," he reasoned.

"I know." She couldn't seem to vocalize exactly what she was thinking and feeling. "It's just that he was always happy, you know? And we were friends, so you'd think he'd have at least _hinted _at being a little bummed, at least, but there was none of that."

"Jordan wasn't like that."

"Yeah, but he helped _me_—" She snapped her mouth closed, realizing that this was something they hadn't yet talked about in the short amount of time they had known each other.

"Helped you with what?"

She shook her head. "It's nothing. Whenever I needed help, he was there. End of story."

Only it wasn't.

Jace didn't seem to buy it, but he took one look at her and decided to drop it. "Okay," he said. "Do you wanna keep reading?"

She shook her head once more. "You know, I was thinking something."

"Yeah?"

Clary didn't quite look at him. "It's not a good kind of thought."

"Alright. What is it?"

"Jordan died in a car accident."

"He did."

"Well," she went on, "what if it wasn't?"

"I'm pretty sure it was, Clary."

"I meant the accident part." She met his gaze. "What if it wasn't an accident?"

"What if it was him committing suicide, you mean."

She nodded. "I guess."

Jace took a breath and laid down next to her. She turned around to face him. "I don't know," he said. "After what we just read, I don't wanna say no, but it just…"

"Doesn't seem like him? Yeah. I know. None of this seems like him." The heaviness on her chest grew, and she tried not to meet his eyes, because he'd know just how she felt. She knew that she was wearing everything on her sleeve, and that it showed in the way she looked at him. So she just...didn't. She laid back down on her back and stared at the ceiling, taking even breaths.

"Yeah," he replied. "This is all so messed up."

"And we haven't even gotten to the end yet." After he didn't say anything, she continued. "I'm scared, Jace."

"Yeah," he replied. "Me too."

Clary smiled slightly. "You don't seem like the type of guy who gets scared."

"Maybe not at stupid shit," he said to her. "But this is all really overwhelming."

"Yup."

She felt his gaze on her, but she couldn't face him. Everything seemed so much more stressful than it had before. Did she even _want _this stupid festival to happen now? She'd poured everything she had into planning something for her best friend, but it turned out that she didn't even know him at all.

"I need to do something," she told him.

"No butt things," he said, and she looked over and saw him smiling.

She smiled back. "No butt things."

"What usually helps?"

She wanted to tell him that she hadn't felt this way in months, but she didn't. Instead, she thought back to what Jordan would say. She couldn't exactly expect Jace to tell her the same things; the situations were not at all the same. She thought back to the times when Jordan's words couldn't cheer her up, when it was just so overwhelming that she thought there was a hole inside her heart.

It had never been as bad as it was now—at least not in the same way. But there was always one very therapeutic thing that made her feel a little better.

She looked over at him. "Let's drive around."

He didn't need any more words from her. He placed the journal inside the box once again, put on his shoes, grabbed his keys, and led her out the door. The air was heavy outside, as was expected of a hot summer evening.

They passed all the houses in their little neighborhood, and Clary finally spoke when they'd gotten on an avenue. "I like listening to music really loudly. And I like singing to it. And that's what helps me, I guess." She shrugged.

"Your iPod or mine?"

"Yours is fine," she said, knowing that they had the same taste in music. And that, if he put his iPod on shuffle, there were fewer chances of classical music playing in the car. She waited until the chorus began before singing the familiar words.

_Quality drugs and limousines  
__Oh Momma this is killing me  
__I'm half the man I used to be  
__Oh_

_To give to lust and gambling  
__Oh Momma I need rescuing  
__What sixteen years has done to me  
__Oh_

She nodded her head along to the beat and swayed to it as well, closing her eyes.

_Sixteen years  
__Burning every bridge that I have known  
__Without you here,  
__The world has gotten colder on my own  
_

_Quality drugs and limousines  
__Oh Momma this is killing me  
__I'm half the man I used to be  
__Oh_

_To give to lust and gambling  
__Oh Momma I need rescuing  
__What sixteen years has to me  
__Oh_

Her favorite part was coming up, and her chest swelled up as it approached, the words dying to escape from her lips.

_There's nothing like it  
__I'm going away  
__There's nothing like the feeling  
__Of being alone in a New York street  
__Gives everything some meaning  
__There's nothing like it being torn apart  
__From a love you've known right from the start  
__There's nothing like this feeling_

She sang the part again, and then the chorus, and she felt herself getting lighter as she and Jace screamed the words inside the car, letting the sounds of their voices fill the car ride to nowhere.

The next song came on, and she would've recognized it anywhere. It was the song she listened to nonstop during her sophomore year, and it still made her smile. She hadn't heard it in a long time, so she listened to the beginning before jumping in.

_I know you better than you do  
__So put out your cigarette tonight_

_Me and you, you and me  
__Let's go back, let's go back  
__1983 is calling  
__I've been on my knees and crawling  
__Back to you  
__It's coming all back to me_

She sang the song with the pain she felt on her chest. It didn't have anything to do with her situation—neither one of the songs did—but that was the point. Even if she felt all of this other crap, she had to remind herself that she could feel other things, too. Happiness and anger and joy and the feeling that comes with remembering an old favorite song.

She and Jace met each other's gaze a few times and smiled as they sang along. He was being awesome and totally going along with her plan; he hadn't even asked how or why this made her feel better. He just knew that it did.

_Tell me where our time went  
__And if it was time well spent  
__Just don't let me fall asleep  
__Feeling empty again  
_

'_Cause I fear I might break  
__And I fear I can't take it  
__Tonight I'll lie awake  
__Feeling empty_

_I can feel the pressure  
__It's getting closer now  
__We're better off  
__Without you_

_I can feel the pressure  
__It's getting closer now  
__We're better off without you_

_Now that I'm losing hope  
__And there's nothing left to show  
__For all of the days that we spent  
__Carried away from hope_

_Some things I'll never know  
__And I had to let them go  
__I'm sitting all alone  
__Feeling empty_

She sang the chorus again, the words ringing true to her situation. She'd been happy with the fact that the two other songs were so far away from what she felt, but this one was so very much _there _that she had to sing through the heaviness that sat stubbornly inside her chest, refusing to budge. It was one of her favorite songs, but still.

_Some things I'll never know  
__And I had to let them go_

_Some things I'll never know  
__And I had to let them go  
__Well, I'm sitting all alone  
__Feeling empty_

Jace met her eyes and knew to change the song immediately. She took deep breaths and tried to calm herself down. It'd been working before, so it could work now.

All she had to do was sing.

Ironically, it was another Paramore song, but a better one for this type of situation.

_Why do you care what people think?  
__Are you hooked on to their leash?  
__You know, anklebiters  
__Ate up your personality  
__Try to remember how it felt  
__To just make up your own steps  
__And let anklebiters  
__Chew up, spit out someone else  
__Fall in love with yourself_

_Because some day you're gonna be  
__The only one you've got  
__Someday you're gonna be  
__The only one you've got  
__Why you wanna please the world  
__And leave yourself to drop dead?  
__Someday you're gonna be  
__The only one you've got_

She felt better almost immediately. These were the types of songs that made her feel like she could do anything. Inspirational, get-your-life-together songs always helped.

They kept singing whatever came on. They sang the songs off the top of their lungs. At some point, Jace got on the highway, and they sang with the windows rolled down, and it felt like the whole world was right in front of them. She felt as light as she ever would, and she gave Jace the biggest smile she could muster.

By the time they made it back home, she felt a million times better than she had before. The downside was that it was almost midnight. Although she'd responded to her mother's messages, she knew that Jocelyn would question her anyway.

"Don't leave," she told Jace before hopping off his pickup truck. She walked to the driver's side and asked him to roll down the window, which he did. Out of all the weird things she'd done today, _this _was the one that left him looking at her with a confused expression on his face. "Okay," she continued. "Thanks for today, Wayland. And don't give me that look. I already know how weird this must've looked to you." He smiled. "Anyway, I feel a lot better, so thanks."

"You're very welcome. Anytime." He pretended to tip a hat. Like a cowboy.

She almost died.

"I'll see you around, okay?"

"Sure. Get some rest, Clary."

"You too, Jace."

She watched as he drove off in the direction of his house, and it was only until his truck was out of her sight that she walked inside.

Her mother was watching TV in the living room. "Hi," Jocelyn said. "You're finally home."

"I'm not in trouble, am I?"

She shook her head. "No." She patted the empty space next to her on the couch, and Clary sat beside her. "I know that I've been tough on you these past few weeks, but that's because I—well, Luke and I—have been worried about you." She sighed before continuing. "It's hard to watch your kid lose someone she loves as such a young age. And I was just worried because I, thankfully, haven't gone through that. I wasn't close to your grandparents; they died when I was very little. And I've only lost two friends, and both of them were after I'd already had the two of you."

"I know," Clary replied.

"Anyway," her mom went on, "I know that losing someone close to you can be really difficult to deal with. I don't even want to know what it's like to lose someone at a young age, which is why I've been so worried about you." She looked at her daughter with sadness in her eyes. "I don't know what you're thinking most of the time, and I just wanted to make sure that you were okay."

She nodded. "I'm okay. It's just a lot to process, you know?"

"I know. And you've dealt with this in the best way you could," Jocelyn said. She didn't mention that Clary had missed graduation because she'd been too busy crying over her best friend's death. She didn't mention that she was pretty much useless that first week. "And you're going to be an adult soon. I'm letting you make your own choices. It's just hard not to interfere."

"I know. But don't," she said to her mother, surprised by her bluntness. "I know it's hard not to meddle in my life because I'm the kid and you're the adult, technically, but this is my mess, and I need to deal with it myself."

Jocelyn nodded. "Of course. I'm sorry for how I've been acting, Clary, and I promise that Luke and I will _try_"—she emphasized the word, giving Clary a pointed look while doing so—"to get off your case."

"Thank you." _Better than nothing_. She stood up. "I'm going to bed."

"Goodnight, Clary." She grabbed her daughter's hand and squeezed it before letting go.

"Night, Mom."

She made it all the way upstairs, closed her door, changed out of her clothes and into her pajamas, turned off the lights, and collapsed onto her bed, her eyelids too heavy to remain open for even another second.

* * *

_Songs featured (in order of appearance): _

_16 Years - The Griswolds  
1983 - Neon Trees  
Pressure - Paramore_

_Let us know what you think! xo_


	11. Safe

_rippingbutterflywings: Hey, guys! I just wanted to say a huge thank you for getting us to (over) 100 reviews! You're all so awesome and supportive, and I'm so happy that you've all stuck around. I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

_clarissadele: Hi, everyone! So rippingbutterflywings mentioned this last chapter, but she is away in Europe right now, so I will be updating on her account both this week and next. Anyway, I completely agree with what she said for this chapter, thank you so much for even just reading this fanfic. And thank you for your kind words, as well. I'll be replying to reviews this time from my account. Just quickly, I would like to note that this chapter is going to have another TRIGGER WARNING, just because of the diary entries again. Enjoy the chapter!_

* * *

_While I keep trying to lose the words you said_

_Can't you see I'm hanging by a thread_

_To my life, what I know_

_Yeah, I'm losing control and_

_Oh no_

_My walls are gonna break_

_So close_

_It's more than I can take_

_I'm strong enough_

_I've always told myself_

_I never wanna need somebody else_

_But I've already fallen from that hill_

"Safe" by Britt Nicole

* * *

The following morning, Clary found herself on her way to Jace's house, cursing everything the entire way there.

She'd woken up to a text from him that said:_ Come over to keep reading._ She wasn't thrilled, but she was also not going to back out of going. She couldn't leave him to deal with it all by himself. That'd be incredibly terrible of her. But that definitely didn't change the fact that it was only _nine o'clock in the morning. _

The humid air made her feel even more exhausted, but she finally arrived at his house. She rang his doorbell, and he opened the door shortly after. Jace, being an obviously amazing person, had central air conditioning, so Clary felt herself relax when she walked inside his house. _Thank God,_ she thought to herself.

"Hi," he said.

"Where are your parents?" she asked as a form of greeting.

"Still traveling."

"Right." She nodded.

"Have you had breakfast?"

She had not.

The two of them walked into his kitchen. She saw that breakfast was already done, actually. "I made enough for two," he explained. "Just in case."

_Bless the shit out of him_, she thought.

They took the food upstairs, to his room. He opened the door, and she found herself surprised to see that it was still the most pristine room she'd ever seen. Her parents would love him.

Her parents. Shit.

She set her food down and took out her phone. Both of them worked today, and she hadn't texted her mom saying she'd be out. She sent a quick "I'll be out all day" type of text before returning to her food, which was amazing.

"Did you cook this?"

"I did."

_Oh my God_.

The two of them ate in silence. Clary made a couple of embarrassing noises, but she didn't even care. The food was too good. Jocelyn and Luke were great, but they weren't exactly master chefs or anything, and Jace's food was the kind of thing worth fangirling about.

Seriously.

Once they finished eating, though, it was back to the real world. He took the plates downstairs and brought up two glasses of water, and then he took out the journal from the box it came in, which was tucked underneath his bed. The journal seemed untouched; it was as if the two of them had never read it before.

_If only_, she thought to herself, waiting until Jace was sitting down beside her to open it. As they continued reading, they saw that the entries were more of the same thing, though it only looked like Jordan's state of mind was deteriorating as the months went by. Clary wondered how she hadn't noticed. There were things in there about how he felt like he was failing his friends and family, how his grades were dropping and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it.

How had she not known?

It was written all over her face, apparently, because Jace turned to her and said, "There was no way that we could've known, Clary. He was good at hiding it."

"I guess." She looked down at the page they'd left off at. "I don't think I can do this anymore."

"I know it's hard," he replied. "But don't you wanna know what happened?"

She had never been the type of person to prefer ignorance over knowledge, but she was leaning towards it just this once. Could she choose to have limited knowledge about the person she thought was most open around her? She'd always been curious, but she didn't want to go near that journal again.

"I hate being wrong about things," she said. "It's just so…"

"Hurtful and embarrassing and annoying?"

"Yup."

Jace laid down on his back, and she did the same. "Listen," he said to her, "it's really hard to go through this, but you're not alone, you know?"

She wasn't. She gave him a small smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I know. But it's still hard."

He nodded and said nothing more for a while. She closed her eyes, and the two of them lost themselves in their thoughts. Her heart no longer felt as heavy as it once had when she thought of her best friend, but it filled with regrets instead.

"Are you okay?" Jace asked.

She shook her head. "How much is there left?"

He checked the journal. "Three entries."

Clary sat up, and Jace did the same. She grabbed the journal and let it sit on her lap for a beat before saying, "Let's just finish this, then."

_February 27, 2014_

_I don't know if I can do this anymore. I've been saying that for the longest time, and I guess I'm an idiot for not doing anything about it, but I can't handle the stress of every little thing in my life falling apart. My friends don't know how I feel, and it's not exactly like I can tell them. They have certain expectations of who I am: I'm easy-going, the party guy, the guy who's there for them. I think it's part of why I have so many friends, honestly. They don't have to work for it as hard as they would for a person who's fucked up shit is evident to them. _

_Anyway, I can't tell them. I can't even be real with Maia. I don't even know why I'm with her by this point. I think it's to spare her the pain, because she's still trying to make up for what happened last year, and I think it's also because I'm trying to hang on to this stupid notion that everything will be okay if I keep the things that meant the most to me once. So I'm hanging on to her, I guess, but I don't like it. I don't like any of it. And my parents are fighting, and they don't like that I'm more focused on music than a "practical career," and my grades are slipping, and I got my first college notification a few days ago and it started with "We regret to inform you," so what's the point of staying here if I'll just disappoint everyone (even myself) in the end? _

Clary's hand shook as she turned the page once Jace gave her the okay. She knew that they only had two more entries left, and she didn't know what they'd reveal.

_March 31, 2014_

_I am the most disappointing motherfucker out of all the disappointing motherfuckers out there. _

_I was rejected from a grand total of four colleges. My SATs weren't high enough, I guess. My senior year grades didn't live up to the standard I'd spent three years building up, apparently. Maybe my auditions didn't dazzle them. I don't know. I got into three colleges, and I don't think I can really afford any of them, but my parents would rather take a shot to the head than send their kid to community college. _

_My parents are fucking infuriating. _

_And then there's Maia, who's talking to me about how she just can't fucking take that there'll be distance between us. I'm sure she knows that I can barely look at her anymore, but whatever. It isn't that I don't care about her, because I do, but I don't care about us. I can't handle the thought of being with her. And she thinks we'll be together forever, I think, which is pretty sad. I don't think anyone could spend forever with me, and vice-versa. I don't let that thought overcome me, though, because, as per usual, I have other things to worry about. _

_I got kicked off the soccer team a few weeks ago. My dad almost lost his shit entirely, and all of my friends were asking me a billion questions I couldn't answer. So I got drunk and high that night and I was so out of it that I almost did something that would've been either pretty smart or pretty stupid. The bottle of pills is still on my nightstand; it's fucking massive. I didn't do it, though, but sometimes I look at it and I wonder for hours what the world would be like for everyone, including myself, if I was just gone. _

"Oh my God," Clary whispered, turning the page.

Jace just took a deep breath. Neither one of them wanted to reach that last page, but they dove right in. It was their only chance to do it without backing out.

_May 19, 2014_

_I broke up with Maia yesterday. _

_She cried a lot, which was expected, but then she said that she needed time, which I wasn't expecting. I guess I thought she'd say that I was a jerk and she never wanted to see me again, and the thought of seeing her again on a normal basis the way I used to before I started to feel like I was drowning is kind of nice. I guess. But right now the distance between us is insane; she won't talk to me, won't text me, won't even look at me. And it's understandable, but it's kind of tearing at my insides, because she's the only person (aside from maybe Clary) that has always been there for me. _

_But Clary...I love her. She's my friend. But I can't deal with her right now, because she's had so much shit going on and she's counting on me so much that it feels like I can't even look at her without feeling myself die a little bit. I want to tell her a lot of things about what she's been going through for a while, but I can't. I don't have the courage or the energy to tell her about myself, so I just make up excuses about having to study for finals to avoid seeing her. But I still love her. I just can't talk to her about shit like this. Or help her with her own problems._

_It just feels like I've pushed everyone away because of my inability to communicate what's happening to me. I don't think I fully understand it, really. I want a lot of things, and they contradict themselves, but what I want the most is to be in bed. Forever. I don't remember the last time I picked up an instrument or wrote a song or felt anything. I haven't been sleeping or eating and it feels like I'm an empty shell of a person, and I don't know if I can handle being scared of staying like that forever. _

_And I don't know if I can handle everyone counting on me. _

Clary stared at the journal, then looked at Jace to see if he was still reading, but he was already looking at her. She grabbed the book from between them and slammed it closed before getting up off the bed.

"I have to go," she mumbled at Jace while still walking. She got halfway downstairs before he started to chase after her.

"Clary, wait!"

"I'm sorry. I have to go," she replied after shoving her feet into her shoes, opening the front door to his house, and slamming it behind her.

As she ran back to her own house, Jordan's journal still clutched in her hand, she felt the tears as they started to stream down her face. She got to her house, but then realized that she didn't want to face her family, and she ran around the side to open the gate. Once she got into her backyard with the gate closed, she slid to the ground and covered her face with her hands. She couldn't breathe.

The only reason her best friend hadn't confided in her about his problems was because he felt obligated to be there for her while she dealt with her own shit. He didn't want to upset her more by telling her about what was going on with him. All those months that she had been feeling so down on herself, one of her best friends was thinking the same thing. When she had felt depressed, he'd had depression. And he didn't feel like he could tell her. And now Jace knew, too.

Things that she had only told Jordan, Simon, and Isabelle were coming to light for someone she barely even knew. Would he pity her now? Would he even look at her the same way? Would he think that she was a cold-hearted, self-centered bitch? And what was all of this about Maia and Jordan breaking up? Whenever they were with the rest of the group, they seemed to have the best dynamic. Maia hadn't even said anything about them ending things. From what Clary could tell, the only thing that had been wrong with Maia days after the funeral was that her boyfriend had just died. Even at the funeral, she had still revered to herself as Jordan's girlfriend.

Clary willed herself to get up and go inside, but she just couldn't make her legs move. The confusion of the situation within her friend group was just growing. She felt as though she didn't even know her own friends anymore. There was so much uncertainty between facts and assumptions.

Clary looked up when she heard footsteps coming from the direction of the house. It was Jonathan. He was approaching her with cautious footsteps, so she knew that he must have seen her crying. "Did you know about this?" Clary asked, her voice hoarse.

"About what?" he replied, seemingly confused.

"This," she said, opening the diary near the back before thrusting it at her brother. He took a few moments to read, but, when he looked back at her, he was clearly shocked.

"I—Clary, I swear to God, no. I didn't know any of this."

"Where have I heard that before?" she responded bitterly, staring at the ground.

"No, Clare, I swear I didn't know. Jordan and I weren't even friends when the first of these entries was made, remember?"

Clary did remember. But it was much easier to believe that her brother was lying and that Jordan had at least been talking to _someone_ about how he had been feeling.

"Look, Clary," he started, sitting next to her. "I'm sorry I never told you about Jordan. But I knew how you would react, and I just wanted to be able to keep this one thing to myself and not have to choose which relationship to sacrifice—the one with my friend, or the one with my sister. I love you, Clare, but you really need to learn that people make their own decisions. And I'm sure that whatever was in here had absolutely nothing to do with you."

"But it did, Jon! He wrote it all down! He couldn't talk to me because he didn't want to burden me."

"And you have absolutely no control over that! You didn't tell him not to tell you about his issues. People make their own decisions. You've got to accept that."

Clary sighed and leaned her head against her brother's shoulder. "What are we going to do?"

"Honestly, I have no fucking clue."

* * *

Now that she was in relatively good terms with her brother, Clary tried to make an effort around her family. She had dinner with the three of them that day, but it was definitely not pleasant. She felt her parents eyeing her and looking at her like she was a fragile little thing that was close to falling apart, and her brother looked at her with pity in his eyes. Despite everything, though, she stayed and finished her dinner.

She didn't even serve herself that much in the first place, but she reminded herself that she had to eat. She felt nauseous, but she pushed through that, stuffing more food into her mouth. If she didn't eat, she was going to start feeling like shit. And she couldn't do that. She couldn't feel more like shit than she did right then.

Her mind was adrift. She kept questioning herself, and it was exhausting to do two things at once. She tried to communicate with her parents and answer their questions about the festival and whatnot, but it was difficult when her mind kept going back to Jordan. She should've known. Regardless of what Jace and Jonathan said to her, she knew that she should've felt something, should've seen a sign hidden somewhere. She was supposed to notice these things.

But she didn't. Not when it mattered.

"Helloooo? Clary?"

Her mother's voice made her snap back to reality. "Yeah?"

"I asked if you took the placement tests already. For college."

Clary rolled her eyes. "No, Mom. But don't worry," she said. "I have until orientation to do it, and that's not for another month or so."

"Don't procrastinate it," she warned.

"I won't, Mom."

They discussed everything back and forth: orientation, the festival, classes...it was overwhelming, to say the least. She didn't _want_ to talk about these things, but she preferred the aimless conversations over the actual problems she had to face.

Because they made her want to curl up and cry forever.

Luke and Jocelyn did the dishes after dinner, which Clary thank God and everything holy for, really, because the last thing she wanted was to stand in the kitchen with only her mind. And maybe her brother. Or mother. Or stepfather. Honestly, all options were terrible. She just wanted to climb into bed and listen to music and think about nothing at all.

And she did. She had her music library on shuffle, and it took her a while to find a song that fit her. She thought about making a playlist so that she could avoid all happy songs at the moment, but she was too lazy for that, so she stuck with merely shuffling her entire library and laid down on her bed, eyes closed, phone beside her.


	12. Lean on Me

_clarissadele: Hi again, guys. First of all, thank you so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. I had lots of fun getting a chance to reply to you all. Rippingbutterflywings is back tomorrow (yay!), so she'll probably be responding to most of you, but thank you again. (Just a side note, formatting this chapter was a bitch, can anyone else sympathize with me about FF's terrible copy/paste system?)_

_rippingbutterflywings: _Hiii, guys. This chapter was kind of funny to write, because clarissadele and I kept arguing over port-a-potties vs. outhouses, even though they aren't the same thingggg. Just sayin', dude. Anyway, all peeing/pooping facilities aside, I hope you enjoy this chapter. Thanks again for reading/reviewing/following/favoriting this story! :)

* * *

_Sometimes in our lives_

_We all have pain, we all have sorrow_

_But if we are wise_

_We know that there's always tomorrow_

_Lean on me when you're not strong_

_And I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on_

_For it won't be long_

_'Til I'm gonna need somebody to lean on_

_If there is a load_

_You have to bear that you can't carry_

_I'm right up the road, I'll share your load_

_If you just call me_

_"Lean on me" by Bill Withers_

* * *

As much as Clary didn't want to get up that morning, Maia wanted them all to meet at her house to discuss what they had so far for the festival, as they were running out of time to get everything together.. Jace gave Clary a ride, and, as per usual, the two of them didn't talk; instead, they blasted music and sang off the top of their lungs with the windows rolled down slightly.

When she had first gotten into the truck that morning, she and Jace had exchanged a look that she had deduced to mean that they were not going to bring up the contents of the diary with the others quite yet. As much as Clary knew how pissed they would be if they found out her and Jace had been hiding it from them, she didn't quite want them to know yet. And she was still trying to work up the courage to confront Maia about it.

On the other hand, Clary knew that they all deserved to know. It was going to weigh down on them heavily, but it was something that she and Jace could not keep a secret. In her mind, she came up with a compromise: they would tell Simon and Isabelle.

But not Maia. Not yet.

She told Jace exactly what her plan was before they got out of Jace's truck. He nodded, eventually agreeing that it was for the best. After deciding that they'd go out to eat with Simon and Isabelle or something, they exited the truck and walked up the driveway side-by-side. They rang Maia's doorbell, and she answered immediately.

"You're late," she announced.

"By, like, five minutes," Clary replied. Unfortunately, everyone was already there, making them seem like even bigger douchebags. Damn. "Sorry, guys. Mom wouldn't pick up the phone, and she's weird about me leaving without calling or texting."

Isabelle waved her off. "It's fine."

Jace sat on the floor by himself, and Clary joined Isabelle on the couch. "So what have we got?"

"Wait," Jace said, holding up a finger. "Before we go into too much detail, I invited Kaelie to this, since Takis is now our food supply for the festival."

There were a lot of positive comments surrounding that statement, since food was an extremely important part of any event.

"How do you even know Kaelie, anyway?" Simon asked. "I mean, you must know her pretty well for her to do you that big a favor."

Jace looked slightly uncomfortable to answer that question. "Well, um, we dated for a bit."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "A bit?"

Clary smiled despite herself at Isabelle's remark, while Jace looked like he didn't want to get into that. But Isabelle pretty much let him know with one look that he wasn't getting away without spilling, so he began telling them the story of him and Kaelie.

"We were never anything serious," he said, "which is why we're still on good terms. We hooked up once or twice, you know, and then I got to know her, and she was pretty cool, so we went out a few times. We dated for about a month and a half before we decided that we didn't want anything more. So we stayed friends, and that's that."

"Huh." Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest. "So it was nothing scandalous."

"Are you bored?" Clary asked, smirking.

"Incredibly."

Jace shook his head. "I never claimed to have an incredibly interesting story about us. Things were pretty normal. I just didn't see us going anywhere."

Clary knew that things could get very awkward when Kaelie showed up, and she wanted nothing more for things to remain normal and light and fun. "So," she said, clearing her throat. "What else have we got?"

Jace looked at her with gratefulness in his eyes, and she turned back to Maia with a smile on her face. "Well," Maia said, "we have a couple of things to figure out."

"Such as bathrooms," Simon interrupted. "A guy's got to know where he'll be peeing, you know."

Jace nodded. "I totally agree."

"And girls don't? I'm a little alarmed," Clary replied.

Simon rolled his eyes. "Girls can pee wherever."

"How dare you?"

Isabelle rolled her eyes back at her boyfriend and best friend. "Alright. Okay. So bathrooms," she continued, a smile on her face. "I was looking it up—"

"You were looking up port-a-potties during your spare time?" Simon asked. "Why are you my girlfriend?"

She shoved him slightly. "_Anyway_," she said, "I was looking up how many we should have and stuff, and this one website said that we should have two for every fifty people. So, basically, we need to know how many people are going."

"Well," Maia piped up, her computer sitting on her lap, "according to the Facebook page, 570 people have confirmed. But," she added, "now that we signed a contract with more well-known bands, we're kind of expecting this to, like, triple."

"Triple?" Clary asked, mouth wide open.

Maia nodded. "Yup."

"So we're gonna need, like, _three hundred_ port-a-potties?" she asked.

"Wow," Jace commented. "You are really bad at math."

"More like thirty, Clary," Maia replied with a smile. "Thirty port-a-potties."

"Okay, for a second I thought there would be more places to pee than people to pee there."

"Three hundred is still way less than one-thousand-seven-hundred-and-eighty. Do you need to go back to school, Clary?"

"Hell no. I'm done with that shithole. And I was being sarcastic, Si."

A timid knock on Maia's front door alerted the others that they had a new arrival. "I'll get it," Jace said, standing up. "It's probably Kaelie."

A few seconds later he returned with a tall blonde girl that Clary assumed must be Kaelie. Though she had seen her around the school before, they'd never really talked or had any classes together.

"Hi," Kaelie said. "I realize now that there was a doorbell, but I kind of couldn't find it."

Maia smiled. "It's fine. We really do need to get rid of the crap blocking the sides of our front door."

Clary made a noise of approval. "A little bit, yeah."

"Anyway," Jace started, "Kaelie, this is everyone. Everyone, this is Kaelie"

"And I promise our parents didn't just give us all the name Everyone. I'm Clary."

Kaelie smiled and reached her hand out to shake Clary's already extended one. "Nice to meet you."

Isabelle waved lazily from where she was reclined in the armchair. "Isabelle, and that's Simon. Thank you so much for doing this for us; it really means a lot."

"No problem," she replied. Jace took his seat on the floor where he had been before, and Kaelie perched next to him.

"Okay," Simon said. "So toilets."

"Port-a-potties," Clary corrected him.

"Well," Kaelie said, "I clearly walked in at the right time."

"You missed Clary's hilarious math fail and Simon telling us that women can pee anywhere but men can't."

"Fascinating." Kaelie smiled. "Okay, so I need you to send me an estimate of how many people we'll be serving. We'll be sending you the advertisement info soon, of course, and we need to know _how_ we're gonna be advertised."

"Maia's the one who's into all of that," Isabelle said. "Well, Maia and Simon. And a little bit of me. But you two go to the kitchen, and the rest of us will look for places to pee and poop for everyone."

"Sounds like a plan," Maia said, leading Kaelie into the kitchen.

The rest of them end up seeing that the port-a-potty rental will end up costing them about $4500 to rent thirty port-a-potties for two days.

They wanted to die.

They knew that Jordan's parents were going to help, as well as their own parents, but they couldn't go over the line. Yes, they planned on earning the money back with the ticket pricing, and to even earn some extra money to donate, but it was all overwhelming. They'd gotten lucky up until this point.

"Here," Jace said, taking out his phone. "I'll call the place, see if they give me a discount for this being a charity type of thing."

Clary nodded. "Okay."

While Jace did that, she took out a mini notepad and wrote 4500 - PORT-A-POTTIES in big letters. She wrote down that the food was free, and that Bat was taking care of the whole insurance thing, though she didn't know if he was doing it legally or not. Oh well. She wrote other things down, too, like SECURITY and TICKET PRICING and VOLUNTEERS and PLATES/CUPS, and she wrote them all in capitalized, big letters so that her friends could feel how much they _needed_ these things. That, and she liked writing in big letters and taking up an unnecessary amount of space.

"Okay," Jace said, entering the heart of the living room and sitting on the floor once again. "They said they'd leave them at four grand, but that's about it."

"That's five hundred less than before," Clary noted, scratching out the 4500 and writing 4000 instead. "It's an improvement."

Maia and Kaelie walked back in, settling down in their original seats. "Okay," Maia said. "How's the toilet thing going?"

"Four grand for thirty port-a-potties for two days," Jace replied.

She nodded. "Not bad. Anything else?"

"I made a list of things we might need." Clary handed the notepad to her.

"Awesome. Okay. Bat's gonna work on security, so we can scratch that out, but we do need more volunteers to help us run the show."

"We could contact people from school?" Isabelle asked. "I mean, the soccer team would probably be up for it, and people _did_ like Jordan. Plus, it'd look good on their resumes."

Maia nodded. "That's good. Jace, can you take care of the soccer team?" He nodded. "Izzy and I will take the rest of the people."

Kaelie raised a hesitant hand. "I could help out too. I know a few people who are looking to get some community service hours. They're in college, though. Is that alright?"

Clary grinned. "That's perfect."

"Okay," Maia said, "I think we also need to work out a rehearsal for the bands you guys chose to play. Clary, Jace, could you do that?"

Clary nodded, and Jace replied, "we're on it."

They figured out some other things, too, like Kaelie could help them out with the cups and plates and all of that. She figured that they could split the cost or something and then factor it into the price of the food later on. At the end of the day, they came up with a tentative price of ten dollars per ticket, though they noted that it could increase later on. Maia said that she was going to stay home and talk to her parents and Jordan's about money for the port-a-potties, but that they were free to go.

Clary felt slightly guilty at the fact that she didn't stay behind with Maia. The two of them weren't the _closest_, but they were still closer than most people. She knew that her friend must've been going through a hard time now that one of the few support systems available to her had passed away, but she couldn't stay behind. Clary and Jace said goodbye and caught up to Simon and Isabelle on their way out.

"We should go eat," Clary offered. "At Chili's or something."

"The four of us?" Isabelle asked.

"Yup," she replied.

"So like a double date," Isabelle said.

Clary rolled her eyes. "No, not like a double date. We need to talk to you."

Jace nodded. "It's, uh, pretty urgent."

They said goodbye to Kaelie and rode in two separate cars. Clary, of course, rode with Jace in his truck, while the happy couple took Isabelle's car to Chili's. Once they'd arrived and were seated, their drinks already on the way, Clary looked at Jace, who nodded, and began speaking.

"We sort of…" She took a breath. "Okay, this is hard. Um, remember the box we found at Jordan's?"

Simon nodded. "Yeah, where that one picture was."

"Right." Clary looked at Jace nervously before glancing at her friends. Her stomach was in knots. "Well, we found this journal of his."

Isabelle raised an eyebrow. "He kept a _diary?_"

"Basically," Jace replied.

"Anyway," Clary went on, "it was filled with, like, his thoughts and how he was feeling and everything, and…" She trailed off. There was no easy way to do this, but this was harder than she thought it would be. "Well, he was depressed."

"Depressed?" Isabelle asked, brows furrowed. "That's...I mean, that's impossible."

"Jordan wasn't _depressed_," Simon agreed. "He was the happiest guy I knew."

"Clearly you haven't read his journal," Jace said to them. "It was bad. Really bad."

"I can't believe this," Simon said. "I mean, of course I believe it, because I can't think of a reason in hell that you guys would want to lie about something like this, but this is the last thing I could have expected from someone like Jordan."

"None of us would have expected it, Simon," Clary muttered. She really didn't want to tell them the other part, but she knew she had to. "This is really hard to say, and I couldn't believe it when we first read it, but, guys, Jordan and Maia broke up."

"What?" Isabelle exclaimed. "No, Clary, they didn't."

"They did. Jordan said so in his journal. There was something about not ever forgiving her about what happened with Aline. It was a few days before he died. He was driving over to her house to get back together when the crash happened."

"Oh my God," Isabelle said, leaning back into the booth. "Just when I thought this all couldn't get any more fucked up."

Clary couldn't agree more.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! x_


	13. Let's Talk About Sex

_So, hi! We're writing a joint AN today to basically say that we're both super fucked (clarissadele has a super fucked ankle and I have bronchitis and had a colon cleanse + colonoscopy in the past 24 hours!), but we're updating anyway, because we love your faces. We hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

_People might misunderstand what we're tryin' to say, you know?  
__No, but that's a part of life_

_Let's talk about sex, baby  
__Let's talk about all the good things  
__And the bad things that may be  
__Let's talk about sex_

"Let's Talk About Sex" by Salt-N-Pepa

* * *

By the time that they had said goodbye to Isabelle and Simon, Clary knew that her parents would want her back home. She'd already texted her mom about going out with friends and said that they could go ahead and eat without her. She and Jace were driving back to her house when he suggested that they get together to work out the rehearsal schedule.

"I'm pretty sure my mom wants me home now," Clary replied. "And, okay, this may sound crazy because you know how wack my family is, but we do need to get this done. So you could come over to my house?"

"Sure," he said easily.

"Oh, well, okay." At that point they had reached Clary's house, so Jace pulled over to the curb and parked there, claiming that he'd move his truck later. She unlocked the door to her house, and they both stepped inside.

"Mom! I'm home!" she yelled. "I have a friend over, and we're going to go do some work for the festival." Jocelyn turned the corner just as they were about to head up the stairs.

"Alright, well, Jon and Luke are out, and I—oh. Hello," she said, briefly glancing at Jace before quirking her head at Clary in a way that she knew meant something like since-when-do-you-make-friends-with-good-looking-young-gentlemen.

"Mom, this is Jace. He's been helping us with the music festival. Jace, this is my mom."

"Nice to meet you," Jace directed politely to her mother.

"You as well, Jace." There was a moment of tense awkward silence between the three of them.

"Alright, well, uh, we're going to go upstairs now," Clary told her mother, motioning for Jace to follow her.

"Wait, Clary, may I talk to you for a second?" Jocelyn asked.

"Sure." She turned to Jace. "My room is the second door on the right. I'll join you in a minute."

She followed her mother down the hallway, where Jocelyn was shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"So, what did you want to talk to me about, Mom?" Jocelyn waited a moment before grabbing Clary's hand in her own and pushing something into her palm. Clary looked down to see what her mom had passed her. It was a condom.

"Oh my God," Clary said after a moment of stunned silence. "What?"

"Clary," her mother said, "I know that this is a time when you'll want to be having _fun _and enjoying yourself, and, well, while this is one of the most dreadful things for a parent, I fully support—"

"No!" she exclaimed, disgusted. "_No_. Oh my God, Jocelyn!" She was scandalized.

"Clary, this is perfectly normal. It's _nothing _to be embarrassed about."

"Oh my God," Clary moaned, wanting to cover her face with her hands—which were, at the moment, half occupied, as one of them held a _freakin' condom_. "Mom—"

"It's _okay_, Clary."

"No! Mom," she said, taking her hand and pulling her into the nearest room—the bathroom. "Mom, okay, _listen_. Listen to me _very carefully_. I am not—oh my God. Mom. He's my _friend_. We aren't going out or hooking up or—ugh. God. We aren't _involved_, okay?"

Jocelyn looked like she didn't believe a word. "You look flustered. You're blushing."

"Because! The prospect of us being involved is so _weird_, Mom. He's my friend," she explained, shaking her head. The condom made a crinkling noise in her hand, giving her yet another reason to jump down the stairs so she didn't have to face reality ever again. "We are _seriously _not involved." She took her mom's hands in hers and gave her the condom back. "Take it."

Jocelyn shook her head and placed the condom in Clary's hands once again. "I'd feel a lot better if you have it. I'm headed out, and I just don't feel comfortable leaving without giving this to you."

"It's going in the trash."

"Then he's going out the door."

She let out a frustrated grunt. "This is ridiculous!"

"It's either the condom and the boy or no condom and no boy."

She felt insanely tempted to flip her mom off. "_Fine_. But I am not happy about this."

Jocelyn rolled her eyes. "Yes, I care so much about this condom jeopardizing your happiness, Clary."

"You're the worst mother in the world. You never did this to Simon or Jordan!"

"Well," Jocelyn said dryly. "Simon and Jordan were not this good-looking."

"Mom!"

"Go along," she replied. "I won't keep you from him."

"Do _you _wanna be alone with him, Mom?"

"Don't be silly. Have fun." Jocelyn gave Clary a quick hug, and, just as Clary was about to go into her room, she called out, "The door stays open!"

She wanted to die.

She faced Jace, who was standing by her desk. He raised an eyebrow. "What was that all about?"

"Nothing," she said, closing her hand. But, of course, the crinkling sound that the condom made gave her away.

Jace cleared his throat. "What'd she give you?"

"What?"

"There's something in your hand."

_She wanted to die_. "Oh, it's nothing," she said, stuffing it in her pocket. "Where do you wanna sit? Floor?"

"I feel like that would keep your mom alive for longer, yeah," he said, and the two of them proceeded to sit down on Clary's floor.

Clary was completely mortified. _He must have heard the whole thing_. She had never to die more than she wanted to just then. Or, well, not _die_, but maybe have the earth open up and swallow her whole. Yup.

"Okay," Jace said, possibly sensing her discomfort. "Alright. So we have these bands, and…"

The two of them began planning on Clary's floor. They talked to some of the more well-known bands over the phone and wrote down about ten different schedule drafts until finally, _finally_, three hours and a whole pizza later, they figured out the rehearsal schedule.

"I'm so beat," Clary said, laying down on her floor. She hated that it was so hard against her back, but it didn't matter when she was that exhausted.

"Same." He laid down with her. "You know," he said after some time, "we need to talk to Maia."

She took in a deep breath. Her AC was on, making the air less heavy, but she still felt like she couldn't breathe at the thought of confronting Maia about this.

"I'm not saying," he continued, probably disgruntled by her silence, "that we tell her about Jordan's depression right away, but we should at least figure out how much she knows and why she didn't tell us about the breakup."

She knew that he was right. She faced him when she felt his gaze on her. "Yeah," she said with a nod. "Yeah, we should. It's just that I—well, I just don't want to upset her. She's already taking on so much, you know?" She shrugged, but it felt awkward, what with her being on the floor and all. "I know that there's no good or easy way to do this, but it certainly doesn't stop me from wishing for one."

"Yeah," he told her. "I know. I wish that too."

The two of them laid down in silence, their eyes closed. Clary wondered if he felt things the same way she did. He seemed so _collected_, as if none of this had any massive effect on him. Clary, however, was questioning everything.

She wanted to ask him how he did it—how he managed to stay so together when the world seemed to be falling apart for her. He sometimes seemed to be shocked, surprised, or maybe even a little angry, but it never seemed to shake him to the core. For her, though, it was a totally different thing. It was as if her foundations were crumbling down, as if her whole being might just fall apart. She was holding herself together, but barely.

She couldn't bring herself to ask him how he did it. Yes, they were close, but this felt too personal, like something she would ask Simon, maybe. But not Jace. Not yet.

Clary didn't want to admit this to herself, but it was partly because she wanted him to see her differently. It was true that he'd seen her bawling her eyes out and in pretty bad condition, but people cry all the time. If she actually let him know that she felt like she had no control over anything anymore, what would he think? Jace, with strength like none she'd ever seen, with the ability to live his life normally despite what had happened—what would he think of her, who fell apart whenever she found out just how badly hurt her friend was? She wasn't as strong as she wanted to be, and that in itself shook her to the core.

"Hey," Jace spoke up. "Are you okay?"

She wanted to shake her head, to tell him no, but instead she nodded. "I'm fine."

He looked at her like he knew she was lying, but he didn't argue. "You can talk to me whenever, you know. About anything."

He was so heartbreakingly kind to her. She nodded. "I know. Same goes for you, you know."

He nodded back. "I know." He paused. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She rolled her eyes, a small smile on her lips. Her heart felt heavy in her chest, but him being here was an incentive not to fall apart. "I am. I promise."

"In that case," he said, sitting up, "I should go. My parents get back tonight, and it's already nine. They should be home in two hours, and I wanna be there. And clean a little."

"Did you do a lot of drinking?"

"Quite a bit, yeah."

"I can't believe you didn't give me any," she said, feigning hurt.

He grinned. "I have bottles stashed in my room. Just say the word."

"Not right now." She shook her head. "But thanks, Jace."

"You too. You know, for today."

She waited until he got up to lead him out of her house. "I'll see you around, okay?"

"Definitely. Thanks again for today."

She smiled. "You're welcome. Text me when you're home so I know you didn't die on the way there?"

He nodded. "I will," he said, not questioning it despite only living a few short minutes away.

She closed the door to her house and fell against it with a sigh. She would be okay. After locking it, she took some water from the kitchen and went upstairs, getting ready for her shower. It wasn't until Jace texted her that she was able to actually get into the shower, all worries brushed aside by a simple text.

* * *

The next day, they once again stood beside each other, staring down the door to Maia's house. They were waiting for her to answer, as Jace had already rang the doorbell. The door opened a few seconds later. Maia looked a little bewildered to see them there, as they hadn't called ahead.

"Clary, Jace, what are you guys doing here? Did you want to go over something?"

"Um, no, Maia. We actually wanted to talk to you," Clary said. "Maybe we should go in and sit down."

Maia gave her a weird look. "Alright." She led them to the living room and they all took a seat— Maia in the armchair, and Clary and Jace on the couch.

"So, um," Clary tried to start, but she couldn't figure out how to voice the questions in her mind.

"We know about Jordan," Jace blurted out.

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

Clary exhaled slowly. "He means we know that you guys broke up a few days before he died."

Maia shot backwards in the chair, as though one of them had just slapped her. "What? How do you know about that? I didn't tell anyone!"

"We found Jordan's journal, and we've been reading it," Jace replied.

"Jordan kept a journal? Wait, that's not even the point! You invaded his privacy like that? How could you guys do that?"

"Maia, we just wanted to know if there was anything that we could use for the festival. We wanted to get to know him better," Jace tried to explain, as he reached out a hand to lay on her shoulder. She swatted his hand away and turned to Clary.

"Okay, so there were things about me and us in his journal. But what else did you find?"

"Nothing good." Clary shivered. "He was depressed, Maia. We just want to know if you knew."

"Of course I knew, Clary! Until the breakup, I had been hoping that I was at least helping him deal with it! Oh, God. What if I was only making it worse? He said he couldn't forgive me for last summer, so what if staying close to him wasn't helping at all? Oh, _God, _Clary!"

Clary felt absolutely _terrible._ She would have thought that Maia had known more than she did. She just wanted answers, but she came here and made her friend cry. And she couldn't even tell her that it wasn't her fault, because that would make her a big fat hypocrite. Clary still blamed herself after what she had read in the diary.

At some point, she and Jace must have gotten up to comfort Maia, because they were both crouching on either side of the chair now. Eventually, Maia calmed down enough that she was able to speak to them again. Clary passed her a tissue, and she blew her nose.

"I want to see it," she told Clary.

"I—I don't know if that's the best idea," she replied hesitantly.

"Please, Clary. I don't care if it hurts my feelings. I don't care if it breaks my heart. I just need to know the truth. After everything, you must at least understand that much, right?"

Clary didn't have any more reasons for Maia not to see the journal. Of _course_ she understood. All she'd had since falling through that floorboard in Jordan's room were just more questions. She couldn't deny Maia the answers that she craved so much herself.

"I think the journal is back at Jace's, but I'll get it for you as soon as I can."

"Thank you," Maia gasped. "_Thank you._"

Out of the corner of her eye, Clary saw Jace check his watch. "I'm sorry, Clary, but I promised my parents that I would go to lunch with them. Unless you can find another way home, we have to leave now."

She waved him off. "It's okay; I'll get my brother or Isabelle to pick me up later. I think I'll stick around here for a while."

Jace hesitated. "If you're sure."

"I am. Thanks, Jace."

After he left, she and Maia sat back on the couch and turned on the television while idly chatting about stupid things, such as gossip that had been going around throughout the last days of school, grad pranks, who was doing who and so on and so forth. Clary started to realize that even if they weren't talking about it, just spending time with someone who understood the best what she was going through was therapeutic.

She still had no idea how she would get through the rest of this summer without Jordan, but she felt better when she spent time with her friends. It felt as though the weight was slowly lifting from her chest. It was going to be difficult to help Maia carry this burden, especially after reading the journal, but she wasn't going to deny her friend assistance, especially when she knew that, if Clary had lost her own hypothetical, depressed secret ex-boyfriend, Maia would gladly help her out.

After all, that's what friends are for.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! _


	14. Iris

_clarissadele: __Hey everyone! I'm actually away right now so I wrote these AN's way in advance. Anyway, rippingbutterflywings will be updating alone from here on out but I hope you enjoy this chapter! I'll be back in 5 weeks! PS: this chapter is actually titled after my favourite song ever so you should really all go listen to it_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hi, guys! So many things have happened in the past week, you don't even know. But the best, most important one: gay marriage is legal in all 50 states + Puerto Rico! I woke up half an hour ago (literally) and was just so thrilled by the news. Things aren't perfect, and people are nowhere near equal, but this is a huge step towards that, so congratulations to everyone! (And shoutout to the Supreme Court for finally making this happen because goddamn, it took them long enough). Anyway, as clarissadele said, I will be updating alone. Howeverrrr, I just wanna say that, on July 10th, I will not be able to update, as I'll be in college orientation, meaning that there won't be an update that week. _

_As always, thank you so much for reading! We hope you like this chapter!_

* * *

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be  
__And I don't wanna go home right now_

_And all I can taste is this moment  
__And all I can breathe is your light  
__When sooner or later it's over  
__I just don't wanna miss you tonight_

_And I don't want the world to see me  
__'Cause I don't think that they'd understand  
__When everything's made to be broken  
__I just want you to know who I am_

"Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls

* * *

It was a few days after the fiasco at Maia's house, and Clary was finally starting to feel like things were calming down. Sure, her best friend was still _dead, _and had now become more of a mystery to her, but, based on the circumstances, things were going pretty damn well.

Her mother was really making an effort in _not _pushing her to talk about her feelings, and family dinners were much more tolerable now. And she had started drawing again. It had been way too long since she'd so much as picked up a pencil.

Clary was sitting in her room working on a sketch she had started the other day when her phone started to ring. She checked her caller ID before she picked up the phone.

"Jace."

"_Clary. What are you doing today?"_

"Oh, just my usual of sitting around and pretending I have a life," she answered lightheartedly. "Why?"

"_I was thinking that we could hang out,"_ Jace said.

"Oh, was there something else we had to get done for the festival?" Clary asked.

"_No, but I was thinking that we never really hang out unless we're working out things for the festival or reading depressing diaries. We should do something together as friends,"_

"Okay," Clary drawled. "Well, what about the beach? We live literally right next to it. I could meet you there in ten?"

"_Sounds like a plan. See you in ten minutes."_

Clary ended the call and grabbed her beach bag before walking over to her drawer to search for a bathing suit. She pulled out the ones she had and grimaced at the options. She hadn't bought a new swimsuit since the year before, and unfortunately, her boobs had grown since then. But she was going to the beach, and there was no way in hell she wasn't wearing a bathing suit, so she picked the one with the most coverage and slipped a loose t-shirt and some shorts over it.

She grabbed her bag and yelled to her mom that she was going to the beach, to which Jocelyn replied, "Be safe. Remember, it takes two to tango, Clary!" She wanted to die, but opted for going out the back door instead.

It was a hot July day outside, and sun beat down on her shoulders. She felt her scalp getting hotter, which was the worst feeling _ever_, and decided to jog over to Jace's. It took a while, partly because it was far and she was definitely not the fastest jogger, but she arrived just as he was exiting his house.

"Hey," he said. "I didn't know we were gonna chill here."

She shrugged. "I don't want my mom to make any more comments."

He grinned. "Your mom is the best."

She smacked his shoulder. "Shut up."

"So, are we getting in?"

"No, Jace. We came to the beach to stand under the sun."

He raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever heard of people doing that, Clary?" Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "To, I don't know, _tan_?"

She raised both of her eyebrows at him. "I was unaware that we came here to tan. Together. You could replace Isabelle easily, I see."

"I'm sure no one could replace her."

"Are you saying that so she doesn't threaten to kill you when I tell her this story?"

"Yup."

Clary grinned and took off her shirt and shorts, her feet all but burning as she took off her flip flops and they came in contact with the hot sand. She cringed and ran for the water, definitely wanting to get her feet in the cold water. Jace was right behind her, so he did hear her sigh in content as her feet felt the sweet relief of the water. The blissfully cold water.

It was going to be a bitch to get in.

She started going in slowly. Jace was right beside her, and she kept an eye on him to make sure there was no funny business going on.

"What?" he asked.

"Just makin' sure you don't splash me."

"No," Jace said, shaking his head. "I'm too distracted."

"By?"

"Your boobs."

She almost choked. "_What_?"

"I mean, they're pretty great."

She was blushing furiously, but she could pretend that it was the sun. "I'm aware, but thanks."

"Always here to help."

She was too distracted to see it coming, but she _felt _it. The biting cold froze her side, and she was in shock for a beat before turning to Jace with narrowed eyes and her mind turning, wondering how she was going to get him back.

"You are the worst," she stated, and then she reached down and splashed him. Repeatedly.

"How dare you?" he asked, insulted, and proceeded to splash her. Hard. It ran from her shoulder to her legs.

She was going to kill him.

They went at it rapidly and furiously until, before they knew it, they were laughing and splashing each other and already well in the water. They were both standing, but the water covered Clary all the way up to her shoulders, which meant that it just covered Jace's stomach. He had, however, gone underwater, just so that she wouldn't splash him and win.

She had wondered where he had disappeared to, but instead of seeing Jace resurface, she suddenly felt something push her up and out of the water from between her legs. She shrieked and clutched onto whatever was below her, which turned out to be Jace's biceps as he had lifted her onto his shoulders. She knew, without even being able to look at him, that he had a smug look on his face. She knew what he was thinking.

"Jace Wayland, I swear to _God, _don't you dare—"

But she didn't get to finish her sentence before he chucked her into the freezing water. Clary resurfaced sputtering, and glared at him. Not that he could see her, though, as he was peeled over laughing.

"That," he gasped between spouts of laughter, "was absolutely priceless."

"You're such an ass!"

"You know, now that you mention it, Clary, my ass is quite nice, thank you for noticing."

Clary groaned, but, now used to the water, she dove forward and started to swim out. Jace followed her easily, and they swam silently. Eventually, they stopped swimming at a point where Clary could no longer touch the bottom with her feet. She was forced to tread water as Jace stood easily across from her, the water just reaching his shoulders.

Eventually, Clary moved so she was floating on her back, and they struck up an easy conversation about trivial things, and hanging out together felt the same as it always was, even though they were in the middle of the ocean and both half-naked.

They only went back to the shore when the sun started to go down and it was getting too chilly to stay in the water any longer. It was when they got out of the water that Clary _really _stopped to admire Jace's body. Before, she was in too much of a hurry; they were too busy trying not to burn their feets on the scalding sand, and then they were too busy battling each other in the water for her to concentrate on his body. But, well, _damn_. He got out of the water before her, so she had time to admire his body. He was lean and muscular and so very attractive. He shook his head to dry off his hair a little, she believed, and it reminded her of scenes in movies were a love interest was presented or something. Except this was her friend, Jace, and she felt no romantic feelings for him whatsoever, although she had to admit that she would totally do him if she was intoxicated enough.

But she wasn't.

She had to keep herself from asking him to stop moving him so she could admire him more. There was no shame in admiring a very attractive friend. No shame.

She put on her shorts and shirt and sat beside him on the sand. She wanted to protest when he put on his shirt, too, but didn't. Oh, well.

"So," Jace said. He was always the first to strike up a conversation, and she definitely didn't mind. "I wanna ask you something. It's kind of personal," he added, "so don't feel obligated to answer or anything."

"Okay…" She let her voice trail off. "What's up?"

"Okay." He seemed to be nervous about this. "Back when we were reading Jordan's journal, you said something about him helping _you_."

"Yeah," she said, regretting the words that had come out of her mouth.

"Were you—"

"Yeah," she replied, not letting him finish. Because she couldn't.

"Oh."

"Look," Clary said, "I didn't tell you before because I didn't want it to be weird. I know that we're still, you know, getting to know each other, and this is something that I kept from all of my friends—except Jordan, because he was, like, the king of perception, so he caught on right away. And he helped me. It wasn't, you know, _bad_. Not as bad as—" _Not as bad as his_. "I didn't have depression. I just felt depressed. They're different things."

Jace was quiet for a moment, and Clary was sure that she'd freaked him out. _Well,_ she thought to herself, _there goes a promising friendship that I thought would follow me to college_.

"I just—" He shook his head. _Oh God_. "I'm not gonna be able to say this the way I want to, so I might as well get it over with." He was looking straight ahead, but he squeezed her hand briefly before speaking again. "I don't know what you went through or what was going on at the time, but I know that you don't deserve to ever feel that way. And you shouldn't feel like you have to minimize or belittle what you went through just because of what Jordan went through. Yes, he had _depression _and you were _depressed_, but both are terrible, terrible feelings, you know?" If she hadn't been stunned by his reaction, she would've spoken, but he kept going anyway, giving her a chance to process the fact that he didn't hate her or make fun of her or make her feel like crap. "Look, his thing—his _depression_—ended in the worst case scenario, but you shouldn't let that make you feel as if what you felt wasn't difficult. You two were different, and the things you felt were different, but the impact they had on you were more or less the same."

"But—"

"No." He looked at her now. "I know that you wanna say that his was a billion times worse because he possibly offed himself and whatever, but that's not for sure. It's not. And, well, you were stronger than he was. Some people are stronger. But it doesn't mean that we shouldn't validate what you went through."

She rested her head on his shoulder, both to show her infinite gratitude and to shield the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. It was dark now, but the streetlights gave the beach a dim light. She wanted to tell him a lot of things—both about herself and about him—but she couldn't seem to get them unstuck from her throat.

"That was a long speech," he muttered.

Clary let out a quick laugh. "Yeah." Once she was sure that she wouldn't start bawling her eyes out mid-conversation, she lifted her head and positioned herself so she was facing him. "What you said before—you're right."

"Obviously," he commented.

She glared at him before continuing. "I shouldn't feel like that, but I just can't help it, you know? This whole thing has taken over my life. And I wish—" She stopped herself.

"What?"

"I wish that he weren't gone."

He gave her a sad smile. "Me too."

The two of them remained in the dark, silence taking over them. When she spoke, she did it with a strong voice, determined not to cry. "Well, okay. So, during the first semester of my senior year, a lot of shit happened. You know, there was all of the regular, senior year crap—all the APs and college apps and crazy expectations and the thought that, oh my God, my entire future is gonna be laid out for me in a few months, and _this _is what I can do to make it happen." She smiled. "Anyway, a month into the semester, my grandma passed away. And, I mean, it wasn't like we were super close or anything, and she'd been sick for a while, but she was the first person in my life who died, and I was so shocked. And it kind of caused me to hit a block in my college essay writing, which had been hard enough for me already, which stressed me out." She took a deep breath. "And then, on top of all of that, I went to this one stupid party—my first party—and this guy tried to…" She blushed. "You know."

"Oh," was all he said.

"And he got pretty far, but not far enough, you know? It isn't something that's scarred me for life or anything, but he just—he makes me so _mad_, and it's kind of like…" She struggled to find the words. "Well, the thing that upsets me the most is that guys think they can just _do _that—that they can go to a party and get drunk and take advantage of a girl who was just having fun. Maybe flirting. _Maybe _hoping to, like, make out a little." She shook her head. "And I said no, and he wouldn't stop, and made me mad. And then it made me sad, but that happened later. I just felt like I couldn't talk to anyone about any of this, because so many things were worrying me that I didn't even know where to start."

"And it got overwhelming," he said.

Clary nodded. "And I kept fighting with my mom because she didn't _get _it, you know? I didn't expect her to, but she made it worse. And then there were all the college essays, you know, with their _tell me stuff about yourself _and _tell me about an experience that has shaped you_, and I didn't even know what to write about. So many things happened to me, but I physically couldn't write for three months. I wrote my essays, like, a week before they were due, and my mom had yelled at me a billion times by then, and I felt like shit. I felt like doing nothing. I couldn't _believe _that I couldn't do something as simple as write an essay—especially since that was gonna determine my future." She felt some leftover dread inside of her and willed for it to stay buried in the depths of her heart. "I just felt useless and pathetic and, you know, the guy from the party would look at me at school and say stuff to me, and it was just the worst feeling. He wasn't doing anything public, but he made _me _feel like shit. Everything just kind of made me feel like absolute shit."

"Well," Jace said, "I can't believe you spent all of this time feeling guilty about that."

She met his gaze. "What do you mean?"

"Clary, the only difference between what Jordan felt and what you felt was that there was something wrong with his brain."

"Exactly. Which means that I should've been able to change the way I felt. He couldn't, but I—"

"Couldn't either," he finished softly. "We both know that it's not as easy as it sounds."

"Nope. Not even close."

"You did the best you could." He looked like he had a billion things to say. "You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, you know. Not everything is on you."

She had a hard time believing it, but she saw the sincerity in his eyes and didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. She nodded. "I know."

"And I'm sorry," Jace continued. "For everything you went through. For your grandma and the pressure and that asshole—which, by the way, tell me his name and I will kick his ass—and everything else that happened. Because you're the last person in the world who deserved all of that." She had a hard time believing that. "But you still—you handled it so well, you know? I don't think you understand how strong you are."

_I'm not that strong_. So many people went through worse things, she thought, and so many people had survived so much more. And yet here she was, being called strong for surviving everyday life. It was...bizarre. "Thank you," she said to him, reaching for his hand. She hated hugging people while sitting down, but she would have done it otherwise. She squeezed his hand, though, hoping that it was a decent replacement. "That means everything."

The two of them stayed in the darkness for a while, listening to crickets sing and birds chirp, but eventually decided to go to their respective homes. She gave him a hug before leaving and thanked him again, and her heart felt both heavy and light as she walked all the way home.

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	15. Fix You

_clarissadele: Hey, guys. This chapter was actually such a bitch to write. I had started it but then completely lost inspiration then we forgot about it blah blah blah. But anyway, thanks for reading and enjoy!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Heyooo. I know I said I wouldn't be updating until next week, but I figured that it'd be better to give you a decent time between updates, so I've decided to upload 15 today, because I leave for orientation tomorrow. I'll be updating again on the 17th (my birthday!), so there you go. After that, we should be back to regular weekly updates. But yeah, this chapter was hard. Hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks for reading. :) _

* * *

_Lights will guide you home  
__And ignite your bones  
__And I will try to fix you_

"Fix You" by Coldplay

* * *

Clary was lying on her bed sketching when her phone started to ring. Jace, who had been sitting at her desk, tossed it to her. Jocelyn hadn't been home that afternoon, so they had managed to get to Clary's room unseen _and_ close the door without anyone trying to inconspicuously pass her a condom. Clary checked her caller ID before answering the phone.

"What's up, Maia?"

"Could you, Jace, and I meet? I need to talk to you guys about some things."

Clary sat up. "Yeah, absolutely. He's actually here right now, so we can meet you in around fifteen minutes if you'd like. Does Taki's work?" she asked Maia, looking over at Jace as if to ask him the same. He nodded his head, standing up and grabbing his keys off of her desk.

"Great. Thanks, Clary."

"No problem," she replied. "See you soon."

Clary stood up and made sure that she had everything she needed: bag, house keys, wallet.

"What was that about?" Jace asked her.

"Maia wants to meet us in fifteen at Taki's"

"Did she say what about?"

"Nope. Let's just go; we'll find out when we get there."

Jace grabbed the handle to her bedroom door and made a grand gesture in opening it for her, in a true "ladies first" sort of fashion. Clary rolled her eyes at him and went through the door.

When they got to his truck, Clary threw open passenger side door, and he plugged his phone into the AUX cord before handing it to her. It was like muscle memory now, Clary choosing a song from his music library. It was sort of like their driving routine. This time, however, she just hit the shuffle button, trusting his taste in music.

_She's like a rock and I keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_And she's got a lot of nerve not seeing you the way that I do_

_We are, oh, we're about to be_  
_So much closer than you thought that we could ever be_  
_Well, I'm sorry to say that I gave it away_  
_We'll I'm empty_  
_You're empty_

Clary thought it was rather fitting that his music had shuffled to one of her favourite We Are The In Crowd songs, especially with the festival fast approaching.

_It's none of my business, but I won't be a witness_  
_If I hang on for the ride I promise I will crash without her there_

_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_And there's gotta be, gotta be something more than this_  
_In a life full of exits and entrances_

Clary smiled sadly to herself. Jordan had loved this song, too. Simon and Isabelle had liked We Are The In Crowd, along with the rest of them, but it had been Clary and Jordan that had really gotten into the band, and it had been Jordan who had rocked out with her to their music all throughout high school.

_I know the way this plays out_  
_But I couldn't find the words to tell you_  
_And you thought that every time she would never tell a lie_  
_But believing a liar is feeding the fire_  
_It's none of your business, but I won't be a witness_  
_No, it's none of your business, but I won't be a witness_

_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_And there's gotta be, gotta be something more than_  
_Something more than this_  
_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_And there's gotta be, gotta be something more than this_  
_In a life full of exits and entrances_

Jace glanced over at her and caught the expression on her face. "What's up?" he asked.

"Nothing, really. Jordan and I used to listen to this song all the time. It's stupid."

"There's nothing stupid about missing someone, Clary. We all associate certain things with people. If you associate this song with Jordan, so be it. You had fun while you were with him; this will help you remember the good times."

She smiled. "Thanks, Jace."

_Did you get what you wanted?_  
_'Cause I couldn't get enough_  
_Now I'm back where I started again_

_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece, chipping off a piece_  
_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece, chipping off a piece_  
_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_Hang on for the ride_

_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_And there's gotta be, gotta be something more than_  
_Something more than this_  
_She's like a rock and you keep chipping off a piece to hold on to_  
_And there's gotta be, gotta be something more than this_  
_In a life full of exits and entrances_

_It's none of my business, but I won't be a witness_

The song finished just as they pulled up outside Taki's. They got out of the car and found Maia inside, already sitting at a booth. She waved at them, motioning for them to join her.

Clary and Jace sat on the same side of the booth. He let her in first, knowing she liked closed corners, and he went in second. She knew that the topic of Jordan would come up, and it was the last thing she wanted.

"Hey," Maia said, a sad smile on her face. "So, listen, you probably know why you're here."

Clary nodded, as did Jace. "Jordan's diary," she said confidently.

Maia nodded. "I just finished it like two hours ago. I had to talk to you guys straight away. I mean…" She shook her head. "I was well aware of his depression, but I didn't know…"

_That it was that bad. That it escalated so quickly. That it got so far._

Clary reached over to pat Maia's hand slightly awkwardly. She hoped that the intention itself provided her friend with comfort. "I know. I'm so sorry, Maia."

She nodded. "It's fine. I just...well, I wanted to ask you guys something."

"We're all ears," Jace said, and Clary nodded.

"Okay." She took a breath. "What're the chances that his accident wasn't an accident?"

"We've already discussed that," Jace said, saving Clary from having to answer, and probably knowing that he was doing so. "There's no way to know for sure, Maia. We can't taint his memory with things we don't know."

"I know, but you've got to hear me out. Jordan was on his way to get back together with me. Even after everything that happened. What if on his way there he just decided that it was too much? That he really couldn't deal with me and all of my shit?"

"Maia—"

"No, Clary, listen to me! What if this really is all my fault?"

"Maia," Jace started. "This is probably the worst way that I could possibly phrase it, but you need to get over yourself. As much as Jordan loved you—and we all know he did—you read his diary. You know everything else he was going through. You couldn't possibly be the only thing that would make him contemplate something like this."

"I'm not saying I was the entire reason, but what if I was the factor that tipped him over the edge?"

"Jace is right, Maia," Clary said, taking the other girl's hand across the table. "We need to stop blaming ourselves. You have no concrete proof that Jordan even committed suicide, much less that you were the reason why."

_Thank God_ is what she didn't say aloud.

"Okay," Maia breathed. "Well, I guess now all we have to figure out is what we're going to tell Isabelle and Simon."

Clary looked at Jace before taking a breath. "We, uh...we kind of already told them."

"What?!" Maia asked, her face a mixture of shock and pain and rage. "How could you do that? Without consulting me? I mean, did you even_ think_—"

"Think what, Maia? They had a right to know."

"But come on, both of you! Did you really want them to have all the weight of that on their shoulders as well? Do they really need that?"

"Maia, think about it. They would've wanted us to tell them anyway," Clary pleaded. "Besides, you know how pissed they would've be if they realized we were keeping something this huge from them. Especially Isabelle."

Maia mulled Clary's words over. "Fine," she said, resigned. "I'm still not happy about this. You should've come to me first. But…" She shook her head. "Whatever. If they do anything because of this, it's on you."

Clary nodded. "Of course."

* * *

The three of them decided on inviting Simon and Isabelle over to Maia's house the next day, which was where they currently were.

Clary held her dead best friend's diary in her hands, clutching it tightly merely so that she'd have something to do with her hands while Maia got them drinks. She sat beside Isabelle, who seemed really confused as to why she was there in the first place. Beside Isabelle was Simon, whose fingers were intertwined with his girlfriend's.

Jace sat on the other side of Clary. He was looking at her every five seconds, which she didn't know whether to be annoyed at or thankful for. They were seemingly meaningless glances, but she knew that he was asking her if things were okay in his own little way. _Their_ own little way. And it made her smile slightly, to think that they already had their way of doing things together.

Maia came back into the room with four CapriSuns, which they'd always loved, and sat down. The five of them shifted so as to form a circle on the floor.

"Okay," Maia said. "So. Clary?"

Clary rolled her eyes. "Yeah, okay. So, basically, we gave Maia the journal."

"When?"

She looked at Isabelle. "A few days ago."

"Who's 'we'?"

Clary bit her lip. "It's, uh, Jace and I. We're the we."

Isabelle crossed her arms over her chest. "And why weren't we a part of this?" She motioned to herself and Simon.

She shrugged. "I just kind of forgot about it, you know? We were so busy planning and stressing and I just—"

"Thought we wouldn't mind that you gave Maia our late friend's _journal_ without us?"

"Hey," Jace spoke up. "She forgot about it, okay? Let's not make this harder than it already is."

Isabelle fixed him a glare. "You have no right to tell me how to react to this, okay?"

"I'm not telling you how to react," he told her. "I'm just telling you that Clary didn't mean to hurt you or keep you from anything. She always said that she wanted everyone to know and be involved in this. We just didn't wanna waste any time, you know?"

She held her glare for a second before nodding. "Fine. Yeah, okay."

Clary took a breath. "Do you wanna read it?" She looked up at her two best friends. "I know you know about it, but you haven't read it, and I thought you might want to. But I do have to warn you; it's not an easy read. It's unexpected. There's things in there that we would never—"

"It's tough," Jace finished for her. "Do you wanna read it or not?"

Simon nodded, and Clary handed him the journal. Maia led them to her father's study, where the two of them could read in privacy. Clary and Jace remained out in the living room, waiting for Maia to return.

"I didn't expect her to be so mad," Clary said. "She's usually more understanding than that."

"She _should_ be more understanding than that."

She shrugged. "Well, what can you do?" She sniffled, though it was more due to allergies than emotion. Jace wrapped an arm around her nonetheless.

"She'll come around," he reassured her. After a beat, he removed his arm from around her. "It's just a lot to take in."

She nodded. "Yeah." She didn't feel like crying or anything like that, surprisingly enough. She just felt kind of empty inside, as if she were a decorative box, the ones people used to stash things inside. Only she was empty. No one had added anything to her, and so she was hollow.

This feeling never lasted for a long time, but, when it was there, it made her feel like crap. She knew it was better than the alternative, which consisted of bawling her eyes out for hours and looking like shit, but it was still not ideal. The thought of her best friend being upset with her just made her feel even worse.

Maia joined her and Jace shortly afterwards. "She's not that mad," she told Clary.

She scoffed. "Yeah, right. Please."

"I'm serious!"

"She seemed pretty damn pissed to me," Clary said. "I don't think she's gonna forgive me so fast."

"She will after she's done reading."

Effectively, when Simon and Isabelle emerged from the study, the latter ran over to Clary and wrapped her arms around her. Clary hugged her back tightly. It felt so _good_ to share this heavy burden with others, even if it meant that they, too, suffered because of it. She let go of Isabelle and hugged Simon too.

Jace talked to them about the suicide theory while Maia ordered pizza. It was carefully planned so that she wouldn't hear, and also so that Simon and Isabelle would have enough time to put their poker faces back on as Jace rambled on and on about how they couldn't have known and blah blah blah. Simon and Isabelle looked like they were having a hard time processing all of this—they even asked questions—but they seemed to understand what was going on.

The five of them spent the rest of the afternoon absently talking about Jordan while eating pizza. And commenting on the pizza's amazing, rich flavor. The sun began fading, leaving the sky bleeding oranges and purples and pinks and reds and faint blues, but the five of them remained inside, still eating and talking and trying to figure out how they were going to carry their weights around.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! xo_


	16. Twin Size Mattress

_clarissadele: Hey, again everyone! I like to think that this chapter is the road to a more uplifting side of this story. We actually wrote this one quite quickly before I left, very short time frame. Enjoy!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Helloooo! This chapter was a little difficult to write, because we had, like, no time to get it done + couldn't figure out what we wanted to do with it, but it ended up being fun. Today is actually my birthdayyy, so I'm very excited about sharing this chapter with you on such a good day (for me, at least). Anyway, I hope you like it! Thanks for reading. X_

* * *

_This is for the lions living in the wiry broke down frames of my friends bodies_  
_When the flood water comes, it ain't gonna be clear. It's gonna look like mud_  
_But I will help you swim_  
_I will help you swim_  
_I'm gonna help you swim_

_This is for the snakes and the people they bite_  
_For the friends I've made; for the sleepless nights_  
_For the warning signs I've completely ignored_  
_There's an amount to take, reasons to take more_

"Twin Size Mattress" by The Front Bottoms

* * *

Time rolled on as the group worked on preparations for the festival. Clary found herself over at Jace's more and more often as they worked on things together. Even though they had promised they would spend more time together just the three of them, Simon and Isabelle had still retreated to either of their houses to be alone while doing their share of the work. Surprisingly, it didn't bother Clary as much as it had the first time. She felt less isolated now that she had Jace to hang out with, and, due to the circumstances, she couldn't really blame them for wanting to just be with each other.

Her friendship with Jace had grown, too, ever since the night on the beach where she had opened up to him. Clary had met his mother, Celine, a couple of times now over at his house. She was a very sweet lady. One time, when they were in the kitchen working on banners for each of the bands, Clary had realized that Jace's artistic talents extended about as far as her pinky finger. His mom had stepped in to help Clary with the lettering, joking about how Jace couldn't even draw a straight line while he sat back watching them.

Now, about two weeks before the festival, everyone was crowded back into the venue where Jace and Clary had held auditions for the first rehearsal with all the bands. It was the first time they had all met together at once, and Clary was finally starting to realize how many people were involved with this cause.

Isabelle and Maia stood near the front of the room, telling people what to do and being the more assertive ones of the group. Clary was leaning against a wall at the side, watching them. Jonathan had also shown up to show his support, now that they were on better terms. He was leaning against the wall next to her, staring wearily towards where Aline and her band were standing. Although he and Clary had made their peace, it seemed as though all was not going to be left in the past.

"Alright, everyone, attention—uh, can everyone just listen for a second? Hello? Hey! Shut up!" Isabelle finally yelled over top of all the noise. Clary saw her exhale. "Thank you."

"Alright," Maia started. "We have a lot to get through, and not a lot of time to get through it, so—Obesity Epidemic?" she questioned, looking down at her clipboard. "You're up first."

Clary watched as a group of people walked towards what they had deemed the "stage" area, and hoped to God that she and Jace had written down the right names for the bands that had actually been good. Speak of the devil and he shall arrive, Clary thought, as Jace himself came to lean up against the wall next to her.

"So," he drawled. "What is it with some of these band names? This group is literally a bunch of skinny white kids."

"Actually, I believe that they are poking fun at a Jimmy Kimmel episode," Clary replied.

"Ah, yes. But I just feel like Shorty Jizzle and the Plumbercrucks just would have made so much more sense."

"Well, think about it this way. We have a matching pair. Obesity Epidemic is first, and right after goes The Skinny Bums."

"Clary Fray, your intelligence never fails to amaze me."

They were silent after that, listening to the bands they had chosen to play, and thanking whoever was listening that they didn't suck. That was always a plus. Clary tried to interact with as many people as the rehearsal that she could. She talked to Aline shortly, although the other girl seemed just as adamant to avoid Clary's brother as he was to avoid her.

Aline's bandmates were also quite nice. Clary quickly learned that the "we" Aline had been talking about all those weeks back had been her and her girlfriend, Helen. Clary liked Helen. She was quiet, but wasn't afraid to voice her opinion at times. Clary was talking to them when eventually, to her surprise, her brother approached the group.

"Hey, Clary. Aline, Helen," Jonathan said carefully, looking back and forth between the three girls.

"Hi, Jon. It's been awhile, hasn't it?" Helen observed.

"Yeah, it has. Look, Clary," he said to his sister, "I've been thinking a lot about it, and I really want to be a part of the festival. I don't care that Jordan and I had a fallout before he died. He was my friend, and I want to help preserve his memory."

Clary gave him a hug. "Thank you, Jon. That really means a lot, and I'm sure it would to Jordan too." He smiled sadly at her.

"Well, whatever you need me for, I'll do it. Put me to work, sis."

"Actually, Jon," Aline said, surprising them all. "There's still a spot in the band for you. If you want it."

"I—I'll think about it."

"Okay. Well, I'll discuss more details about setup with you later, Clary. We've got to start preparing. See you around, yeah?"

"Yeah, sure," she said.

"What was that all about?"

Clary and Jon whirled around to see Maia standing there, clipboard in hand. Clary shrugged. "Jon might be performing with the band."

"Really?" She seemed hopeful. "Jon, that'd be great. Jordan would love that."

He shrugged. "It's not set in stone yet."

"Still. Thank you for considering it. And I—" Her eyes drifted over to Clary for a second before landing on her brother once again. "I'm sorry," she finally finished.

He frowned, seemingly confused for a split second, before nodding in understanding. "It's okay. It's all in the past."

It hit Clary that Maia was part of the reason her brother and best friend stopped talking. That she was part of the reason why that friendship crumbled. And it must feel terrible, Clary thought, to carry that weight around. She left the two of them alone, unable to interrupt that moment.

She wandered over to where Jace stood, still watching the bands. "Hi," she said, leaning against the wall.

"Hey. What was that all about?" He jerked his chin in the direction of the spot where she had been talking to Aline's band, Maia, and her brother.

She shrugged and let out a breath. "I wouldn't even know where to start. I mean, my brother might play with Aline's band, and Maia started apologizing, and—"

"Ah," he said. "So the usual drama involved with Jordan."

"Yup."

"So." Jace looked over at her. "What do you think of these band names?"

He was obviously trying to change the subject, and it was very much working. As much as she enjoyed venting to Jace about things that seemed to matter more, she also loved joking around with him. She liked that she could be herself around him.

"Well," Clary said, "I'm very much enjoying the Behind Closed Doors thing. Because, you know, they're gay."

"I didn't know that, actually." He pointed at her. "That is pretty genius."

She smiled. "Yup. Oh! And The Beauty Queens." Her gaze drifted over to where four teenage boys stood. "I mean, that is...something."

"Let's go talk to The Beauty Queens, Clary Fray."

She grinned. "Okay."

The two of them approached the four guys. As they walked over to them, they heard them speak, surprised to hear that they were, oddly, British. British. What the heck?

"Hey," Clary said, tapping one of them in the shoulder. He turned around to look at her questioningly. "I'm Clary Fray, and this is Jace." She pointed at the golden-haired boy standing beside her. "We're part of the team behind this fundraiser. We were also there when you auditioned, so."

"Anyway," Jace continued. Thank God, Clary thought. Things were getting really awkward. "We wanted to meet The Beauty Queens. We have some...questions."

"Alright." A guy with dark hair and striking blue eyes looked at them, his arms crossed over his chest. He's hot, Clary thought absently, admiring the boy's bone structure. She resisted the urge to sigh at all of them, for they were all, of course, insanely attractive. And British. And members of a band called The Beauty Queens. "Yes," he continued, "we really are called The Beauty Queens. Yes, it's because we lost a dare to someone. To my girlfriend, in fact." He shook his head. "And yes," he said, "it's a permanent thing."

"Oh my God." Clary had to use Jace's shoulder to help cover her face. She was about to die. She was going to explode for sure.

He patted her shoulder as if to calm her down, because he knew that she was one second away from bursting with laughter. Seriously, if she started laughing, she was going to go into hysterics, and she did not want that to happen. Not in front of the ridiculously attractive (and so very British) boys.

"That being said," the same boy continued, "I'm Will." He extended his hand, and Jace took it. Clary managed a whimper, still hiding behind Jace.

"Sorry," Jace said. "She's so high right now."

That was all it took for Clary to pull back and glare at him. "I'm not high," she said. "Your band name is hilarious, and I needed to chill before I laughed like a hyena for the rest of the day." She shook Will's hand.

"This is Jem, my best friend," he said, pointing at the guy with white hair and super insanely defined cheekbones. "And these are Gabriel and Gideon."

"Hey," Clary said, waving awkwardly. "So...a dare?"

Will nodded. "A terrible dare."

"It was not that bad," Jem said.

"Uh-huh. You just wanted to get kissed by moi."

"That's it?" Clary asked, her eyes widening. "You just had to kiss him?"

"Yes. But I couldn't!" Will threw his arms up. "He's like my brother. It would have been like incest."

"Oh my God." She shook her head. "Boys."

"What? Are you saying you'd kiss your brother on a dare?" Jace asked.

"No," she replied. "But, then again, he and I are actually related."

"Very good point."

"Anyway," Clary said to the band, "it was nice to meet you, but we've got to get going. However," she added, "if you wanna own the name, you should totally cross-dress."

"We're gonna go," Jace told them, pulling a giggling Clary's arm as he struggled to say goodbye. "You're insane," he said to her.

"Maybe." The two of them finally stopped running. "But you don't seem to mind."

"I like it." Jace shrugged. "It'll get me into a lot of trouble, but I like trouble."

She shook her head. "You are trouble, Wayland."

He grinned. "That I am, Fray."

* * *

_Let us know what you think! _


	17. Tonight, Tonight

_clarissadele: __heyyyyy guys so I just got home and I'm super excited to share this with you now! We kind of worked on it in between days I was around and so on so it was pretty hectic but here it is, on time!_

_rippingbutterflywings: So at first I didn't remember that we'd finished this chapter (hence why it's going up at 10), but we did! Yay! Thanks to all of you for reading, and I hope you like it! _

* * *

_We're going at it tonight tonight_  
_There's a party on the rooftop top of the world_  
_Tonight tonight and we're dancing on the edge of the Hollywood sign_  
_I don't know if I'll make it but watch how good I'll fake it_  
_It's all right, all right, tonight, tonight_

"Tonight, Tonight" by Hot Chelle Rae

* * *

Clary found a couple days later, as the week progressed, that she quite liked hanging around the venue that they had booked out for rehearsals. When there weren't bands playing, it was a quiet, relaxing environment where she could just sit and _think_. She found that being able to do that was becoming more and more necessary these days.

And that's where she was currently, though it wasn't quite quiet. Jace was across the room from her, tinkling on the keys of the piano. It wasn't quite as nice as his, though. _Oh my God._ Clary still wanted to marry the person who had made that glorious piece of finery. Okay, so she had a bit of a thing for pianos. Sue her.

Jace, who had previously been playing Yiruma's "Kiss the Rain," had swapped to something contemporary that Clary wasn't sure she recognized. He then started to sing softly, and, _oh man_, was he good. His voice had a bit of an edge to it, but, then again, so did he.

Clary sat there listening for a while, but, when it looked like the song was ending, she got up and went to lean against the piano next to him. "Do you sing a lot?" she asked Jace.

He looked up at her, confused. "Me? Nah, it's just sort of a hobby. Maybe a bit of a habit when I'm playing a song I know the lyrics to, you know?"

Clary nodded in understanding. "I know what you mean. But you're pretty good."

"Well, I wouldn't go as far to say that I'm _good_—"

"But, Jace, you are," Clary argued. "Like, you actually are. I don't know why you don't want to play at the festival."

"Well, I mean, it's not fully that I don't want to. I just don't think that the music I play really captures the vibe that we're going for."

"I'm sure that you could find something to play."

"Well, then, I guess it's too bad that we already have the schedule planned out," he countered, raising his eyebrows in a challenging manner.

Clary sighed. "You're really stubborn, you know."

"Well, look who's talking."

Clary flashed him a grin. "It's a blessing and a curse."

They sat there for a while, taking turns just fiddling around on the piano before the groups started filtering in. Clary had to admit, after hearing them for a couple of rehearsals now, that the bands were pretty good. She particularly liked The Beauty Queens and Aline's band. She watched her brother walk in just behind them and wondered to herself if he was ever going to admit to anyone that he'd been practicing on his drum kit again.

"Alright, people, it's crunch time now!" Isabelle yelled from across the room. Control of everyone else suited her, Clary observed. She was wearing a blazer, which was buttoned up, for some reason. Even though it was summer._ At least there's air conditioning in here_, she mused. "We've got a week and a half to go before the festival, and if you think that people will be paying to listen to some of the shit you all have been pulling out of your asses, then you're pretty delusional. Let's get to work here!"

Isabelle ended her rant by turning to Simon and barking a bunch of orders at him. He nodded at her, but Clary watched him roll his eyes as he turned away. She quickly covered up her smile as she made her way towards him.

"I was just thinking to myself that Isabelle looks good when she's in charge," Clary mentioned to him.

"Yeah, when she's not being a bossy witch," Simon grumbled. Before he'd _really_ gotten to know Isabelle, he used the term "bitch" to describe a girl, and Clary and Isabelle didn't speak to him for a week. So, ever since then, he used "witch" as a substitute. "What have you been up to? I feel like it's been way too long since we've hung out just the two of us."

"Not much. And it has been. Marvel movie marathon at your house tonight?"

He grinned at her. "You're on, Fray."

After Simon walked away, Clary took a glance around the room. She could see Helen and Aline off in a corner, whispering to each other.

"Now that's something that we all saw coming," Jonathan said, coming up behind her and staring over her shoulder.

Jonathan told her that Helen and Aline had been neighbors since they were little. They lived in a gated neighborhood, and they were two of four kids of the same age that lived in their street, so they all became friends from an early age. The other two kids moved away before the start of middle school, so Helen and Aline grew close.

No one really knew that they were lesbians. Helen always knew that she was, and, despite people's small minds, she wore the label proudly. Aline, however, always thought she was straight. She just thought that she _had_ to be straight, because her family, though tolerant, was not necessarily going to welcome anything else with open arms. So she thought she was straight. She didn't kiss a boy until she was halfway through high school, and that was when she knew that she was most definitely not straight.

And then she hooked up with Maia just before college started for her. That was when she _knew_, according to Clary's brother, that she was gay. But her crush on Helen didn't start until October, when the two of them got shitfaced at a Halloween party and hooked up. That was when they both realized that they were attracted to each other.

It was tricky, though, because they were roommates. The two of them were living on campus and had requested to be roommates in the fall, so, for a while, they skirted around the subject of getting together...that is, until Helen got sick of the suspense (and of avoiding her best friend, of course) and just decided to confront Aline. That was about a week after they'd hooked up. They started going out then, after the first week of November.

When Jon, Jace, and Clary had gone to visit Aline, they were visiting the new house. As in, _their_ new house. After they lived together their freshman year, the two of them decided to move into a house with two other girls. It'd be cheaper, they said, and the space was more comfortable. So there they were. Moving in together, going to college together, being in a band together...they really had it all.

Clary loved them. She didn't _know_ them, really, but she loved their dynamic. They were a close little team; they spent the day laughing and smiling and helping each other out. She looked up to them as a couple, just because they seemed like they could conquer the world together.

They were holding hands as they huddled together in a corner, whispering to each other. She felt her brother watch them for a beat before he turned her around and asked, "What toppings do you want on your pizza?"

"Just pepperoni," she replied with a shrug.

"Okay," he said, walking away.

Clary spotted Jace by the piano and walked over to him. She just loved watching him rehearse. Everyone else was either working on technical stuff or talking about pizza. She knew that Jace would want a pepperoni one as well, so she didn't bother to tell her brother differently. She stood a little ways from him, watching him while leaning against a wall, arms crossed.

He was completely caught up in the music. His head was bent, but he was sitting up straight. He had a great posture, Clary noted, watching as his fingers slid effortlessly across the grand piano. Which was, of course, the most beautiful thing she'd ever laid eyes on. Ever.

"NO!" Will shouted, running across the room and making everyone stop. "WE ARE NOT CHANGING OUR NAME TO ABSTRACT PENIS BRIGADE. WE'RE THE BEAUTY QUEENS, DAMN IT."

Clary knew it was funny, but she was too tired/out of it to laugh properly. Jace, however, was losing his shit. After Will stopped shouting, Jace stopped playing the piano and started laughing. He was doubled over, clutching his stomach, and just absolutely losing it.

She approached him. He looked up and shook his head. His face and ears were red from laughing. "Goddamn it," he told her. "I have to start all over again now."

Clary heard the sound of heels clicking against the floor and knew that her best friend was standing by Jace before she actually managed to look up.

Her blazer was unbuttoned, and Clary saw that Izzy was wearing a t-shirt that said BUSINESS BITCH. She bit her lip to keep from laughing.

"What? Oh," Isabelle said, looking down. "Yeah. Best investment ever."

Clary nodded. "I couldn't agree more."

Isabelle was going to double major in college. Her two majors? Fashion and Business. Clary bet that her best friend kicked herself for not designing the shirt.

"Listen, the pizzas are gonna be here in a bit, and I was wondering if you and Jace could help set that up."

"Sure." Jace nodded, standing up. "We're on it."

"Thanks."

Isabelle walked back up to the front of the room, and very much contradicting what her shirt said, yelled at the top of her lungs "OKAY, ASSHOLES, THE WORK DAY IS DONE, IT'S PARTY TIME!"

Lots of people whooped in excitement and Clary joined in. Music blasted and Clary almost collapsed on the floor in laughter at the song that came on.

_We're no strangers to love_  
_You know the rules and so do I_

Even over the intense loud music, Clary could hear the groan and angry "_Simon_!" that came from the general direction of one Isabelle Lightwood as she chased her boyfriend away from his iPod and the speaker system that he was using. Clary laughed even harder, and, when she looked beside her, Jace was laughing too.

_A full commitment's what I'm thinking of_  
_You wouldn't get this from any other guy_  
_I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling_  
_Gotta make you understand_

_Never gonna give you up_  
_Never gonna let you down_

Jace grabbed her hand and pulled her towards where others had started to dance rather ridiculously. Will was even doing that thing where he grabbed his ankle with one hand and his head with the other and shook them both. She could see her brother pulling the classic disco moves.

"I don't dance!" Clary yelled at Jace over the music.

He laughed at her. "You say that as if I do!" He started swinging her around like a mad man, and Clary laughed too. She was just happy she finally knew what it was like to have fun again.

* * *

Later that night, Clary and Simon were curled up on Simon's couch. They had a popcorn bowl wedged between them, and two drinks on the coffee table that their feet were propped on. They were already halfway through _Thor_, and yes, they were watching the movies in chronological order, and Simon had gotten up to refill the popcorn twice already.

Around the part where Thor had first landed on earth, Clary found herself constantly glancing over at the space to her left on the couch that she had subconsciously left empty. A light brush of fingers on her upper arm alerted Clary that she had gained Simon's attention. She turned back to face him and saw worry etched into his expression. Simon and Isabelle's cautious steps and concerned looks had become very familiar to her.

"He used to sit right there, didn't he?"

"Yeah," Clary replied, but for once she didn't feel sad thinking about it. She found herself smiling at the memory of the three of them squished on Simon's tiny couch, snacks piled high on their laps and _Earth's Mightiest Heroes_ whipping across the plasma screen. Occasionally, Isabelle would join them, and so would her brother Max, but she would always ask a ton of questions, not understanding any of the plots or backstories of the various characters. They would always leave before Max's bedtime, but Clary, Jordan and Simon would stay up for hours, finishing movies and talking about various conspiracy theories.

Simon must have sensed that their very brief interaction had not upset her, so he had turned his attention back towards the television screen. They had a good run, the group of them. But shit happened, and life went on. She would still miss Jordan with all her heart, but for the first time since his death, Clary felt something new.

Hope.

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	18. Stereo Hearts

_clarissadele: __Heyyyyy everyone thank you all so much for the reviews! I think rippingbutterflywings and I both wanted to address everyone who has been reviewing asking us if this is a Clace story, so here's what I'm going to say: This is a story about Clary, how she grows as a person and how she deals with traumatic experiences in her life, that could possibly have some Clace romance in it. That is all. Enjoy!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hiii, guys! I really have nothing else to say; clarissadele's AN covered it all. Basically, thank you all for reading and reviewing. You're awesome. I hope you enjoy this chapter!_

* * *

_Make me your radio  
__And turn me up when you feel low  
__This melody was meant for you  
__Just sing along to my stereo _

_..._

_And know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you _

_..._

_And all I ask is that you don't get mad at me  
__When you have to purchase mad D batteries  
__Appreciate every mixtape your friends make  
__You never know, we come and go like on the interstate_

_I think I finally found a note to make you understand  
__If you can hit it, sing along and take me by the hand  
__Keep me stuck inside your head like your favorite tune  
__You know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you_

_..._

_I only pray you never leave me behind  
__Because good music is just so hard to find  
__I take your hand and hold it closer to mine  
__Thought love was dead, but now you're changing my mind_

"Stereo Hearts" by Gym Class Heroes

* * *

She didn't remember why she volunteered to clean up the rehearsal venue, but here they were.

_They_.

As in, her and Jace.

Because, of course, he saw how badly she was suffering after the first ten minutes. And, of course, he offered to stay. She tried to fend him off at first, making up excuses about how her unhappy expression was a reflection of her exhaustion, but that she was fine. Unfortunately, though, that didn't help. It wasn't that she wanted to avoid him, but she'd hoped to have some alone time.

She glanced at the piano longingly. So gorgeous. She was sweeping the room, but she wanted to die. She was _so _tired.

"You doing okay over there?" Jace asked.

She turned around to look over at him. The lights were dimmed, and the place was eerily quiet, and she loved it. "Sure. I mean, I wanna put a bullet through my head for volunteering, but I'm okay otherwise." She groaned. "What time is it?"

"One."

"In the _morning_?"

"I believe the windows answer that question pretty clearly."

She moaned again. "Go back to cleaning."

"Yes, ma'am."

A blush crept to her cheeks at him calling her _ma'am_, but she just hid her face, turned around, and kept sweeping.

After about fifteen more minutes of sweeping (five of which consisted leaning on the broom and groaning), Clary reached a delirious state. So, of course, she did the one thing she never did around people (unless music was already playing).

She started to sing.

_I think the universe is on my side  
__Heaven and Earth have finally aligned  
__Days are good  
__And that's the way it should be_

_You sprinkled stardust on my pillowcase  
__It's like a moonbeam brushed across my face  
__Nights are good  
__And that's the way it should be_

It was livening her up a little, and so she kept singing. She was aware of Jace's presence, but she had reached a point where she didn't care anymore.

_Did you see that shooting star tonight?  
__Were you dazzled by the same constellation?  
__Did you and Jupiter conspire to get me?  
__I think you and the moon and Neptune got it right  
_'_Cause now I'm shining bright_

She stopped singing. She couldn't remember the rest of the lyrics, so she just stopped. Hesitantly, she turned around to face Jace, who was staring at her as if he were in a trance.

"You have a good singing voice," he managed.

"That was totally off-key."

"It wasn't."

"I bet you say that to all the girls."

He smiled. "We need to get you to bed."

"We really do."

He kept putting equipment away, and she finally finished sweeping. She walked over to him, and, before she could get there, he heard him ask, "Hey, can I ask you something?"

Clary shrugged. "Sure."

"Okay." He looked at her. "Have you ever thought of singing?"

"I sang right now, didn't I?"

"At the festival, Clary. At the festival."

"There are no spots left. And, also: no."

"Come on," he insisted. "Have you ever thought of singing for, say, The Mortal Instruments?"

She swore that her heart stopped for a second. "You mean Jordan's old band?" she asked nonchalantly. "Simon's band?"

"The very one."

"No."

"Why?"

"Simon's the lead singer."

"Clary, Simon sucks."

She sighed. "I know. I mean, I love him, but I know."

The two of them walked outside after _finally _finishing up. It was almost two in the morning, and she wanted to die.

"So why don't you?" he asked.

"Stage fright."

"Come on, dude."

"Really! I can't perform in front of people. Even in my super crazy current state of mind, singing in front of you back there nearly made me want to die."

"But you survived," he reminded me.

"That's true," she replied. "Singing in front of _you_. Just you. Besides, this is just a hobby. I don't have the skills to go up on a stage in front of hundreds of people and sing."

"You don't need to have any skills." The two of them jumped inside Jace's truck, and he started the engine; the few seconds that they'd spent outside in the hot July air made them both want to stick their heads in a bucket of ice. "Clary…" He looked over at her. "If this is because Jordan used to be the lead singer, then it shouldn't be. He would've been ecstatic to find out that _you _of all people are taking his place. You know that."

She did know that. Or, well, she _thought _she did. Everything regarding Jordan was so unpredictable lately that she didn't want to risk being wrong. "It's not about that."

"Then what is it about?"

"It really is about my stage fright."

"I'll help you get over it."

"It's not that simple."

"You have an awesome voice, Clary. An _amazing _voice. And a great personality. And you would kick so much ass up on that stage." He sighed. "Besides, your band name alone already helps you, because, really, our lineup isn't exactly all that impressive."

"Aside from the two crazy famous bands," she said.

"Yeah. But, well, they don't count."

She looked over at him and _knew _that he wasn't going to give up. She groaned, rubbed her face with her hands, and closed her eyes, leaning back against the seat. She opened them again and looked at him. The car wasn't moving, and he was looking at her.

"I'll think about it."

"Is that a yes?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe?"

"Yes."

"I'm really confused," he told her.

"I'll give you an answer tomorrow."

"Good enough for me," he told her, and then they took off.

* * *

The next day, Jace picked her up to go rehearse, and, on the way, she said, "I have a proposition for you."

He lowered the music's volume. "What is it?"

She looked down at her thighs. "I'll talk to the band today. I'll rehearse with them. _And_," she said, emphasizing it so that he wouldn't interject, "if I like it, then I'll do it. But if not, then I won't. Deal?"

"Definitely."

"Turn up the music, please."

He grinned at her and did as told.

They belted out the lyrics of the songs that came on, and Clary laughed at all of Jace's voice cracks, even when she knew that they were all intentional. Now, only a week before the festival, she was more nervous than ever, but moments like these with Jace, along with times spent with the rest of her friends, were what helped her keep her calm and just be able to _laugh_ for a while. She felt so _alive._

But, the moment they stepped into rehearsals, all of her excited energy faded, replaced once more by her nerves. She could already feel herself panicking. How was she supposed to ask _Simon,_ her closest friend, if she could just take the place of their deceased best friend? How would that make him feel? She knew her anxiety had started to take over, but, apparently, so did Jace. He turned and grabbed her shoulders, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Just ask him, Clary. He won't be mad."

Clary didn't recall Jace and Simon spending all that much time together, so she didn't know how on Earth he could know that for sure, but she took a deep breath and strode towards where Simon and the band were standing anyway.

"Hey, Si."

"Hey, Fray. What's going on?"

Clary took a deep breath. This was it. "Okay. So, you know you're not the greatest singer in the world, right?"

Simon frowned at her. "That's what you wanted to talk to me about?"

"No, no. It's just, well, so Jace heard me sing the other day and according to him I'm pretty good or something and you guys sort of need a lead singer and he thought that maybe I could do it and if I'm stepping completely out of line you can tell me because it was just an idea and—"

"Clary, slow down. You're rambling." Clary was completely aware of this fact, but she was asking him if she could replace their (dead) best friend as the lead singer of his band. _Jesus._

"Are you asking me if you can join the band?"

"I'm more asking you if I can try rehearsing with you, and, if it goes well, _possibly_ join the band."

"Well, why would you think I'd say no?"

"Because Jordan was the lead singer before," she mumbled.

"Clary, you wouldn't be replacing Jordan. Yeah, he's gone, and yeah, it sucks, but this festival is our way of honoring him and his memory. I think that he, not to mention _we_, would love it if you stood where he did before."

Clary let out the breath she'd been holding onto. "Okay," she whispered. "But, if it doesn't work after this rehearsal, I'm out."

Simon smiled. "Okay. We'll set up and let you know when we're ready. You know the songs?"

"Yeah."

He gave her a big thumbs-up and left, presumably to help the band with the rest of their equipment.

"Well, that seemed to go well," Jace said, coming to stand next to her.

"I can't tell if that was sarcasm or not," Clary replied. She shook her head. "Whatever. I'm still insanely terrified of performing in front of people, anyway."

"You just have to pretend you're the only one in the room." Jace stopped to scratch his head and then frowned back at her. "That just sounded incredibly cheesy, didn't it? I am very disappointed in myself right now."

Clary found herself laughing quite hard, struggling not to say remarks such as _would you like some crackers to go along with your cheese_ and so on. She managed, however, to hold herself back.

"Yes, it did, but it's okay. I forgive you. Thanks, though, Jace. That helps a little. I'll try it."

"Well, anything for you, Clary," he said, bowing at her goofily. Clary laughed again, this time at his false chivalry.

"Okay, well, I think I see Simon motioning me over, so wish me luck, I guess."

The playful grin dropped of his face and he grabbed her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "You're going to kill it, Clary."

"Thanks," she told him in all sincerity. She walked over to where Simon and the band stood and grabbed the microphone from his outstretched hand, thanking him as she did while trying to calm her nerves. She stepped up onstage, attempting to reassure herself. _It's just a small group of people. You can do this. _She stuck the microphone on the stand and stared out at the group of people who had gathered to watch the rehearsal.

"Uh, so there has been a slight change of plans," she started. "I'm going to try singing for The Mortal Instruments for this rehearsal. If it works out, same goes for the performance too, I guess." Clary looked out to the crowd. Most people seemed indifferent. Isabelle and Jonathan, however, were gaping. Jace just stuck his thumbs up at her and grinned.

She took a deep breath when she heard the opening notes of the song and opened her mouth to sing.

_Manage me, I'm a mess  
Turn a page, I'm a book  
__Half unread_

_I wanna be laughed at  
__Laughed with, just because_

_I wanna feel weightless  
__And that should be enough_

It was a song she knew quite well; she, Simon, and Jordan had been jamming out to it years before the band decided to do a cover. She always loved the way Jordan's voice sounded when he sang it.

_But I'm stuck in this fucking rut  
__Waiting on a second hand pick me up  
__And I'm over, getting older_

_If I could just find the time  
__Then I would never let another day go by  
__I'm over, getting old_

The chorus was her favorite part of the song; it made her want to start jumping around and belting at the top of her lungs. She almost did just that.

_Maybe it's not my weekend  
__But it's gonna be my year  
__And I'm so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere  
__And this is my reaction  
__To everything I fear  
__Cause I've been going crazy I don't want to waste another minute here_

_Make believe that I impress  
__That every word  
__By design  
__Turns a head_

_I wanna feel reckless  
__I wanna live it up, just because_

_I wanna feel weightless  
__Cause that would be enough_

She guessed that this song related to her mood the past few months. It was finally time for her to move on from the funk that she had been living in. She was thriving.

_If I could just find the time  
__Then I would never let another day go by  
__I'm over, getting old_

_Maybe it's not my weekend  
__But it's gonna be my year  
__And I'm so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere  
__And this is my reaction  
__To everything I fear  
__Cause I've been going crazy I don't want to waste another minute here_

_This could be all that I've waited for  
__(I've waited, I've waited for)  
__And this could be everything  
__I don't wanna dream anymore_

Clary geared up to slow down for the mellow version of the chorus. She had realized by this point of the song that her stage fright had almost completely disappeared. She was completely focused on the song.

_Maybe it's not my weekend  
__But it's gonna be my year  
__And I've been going crazy  
__I'm stuck in here_

_Maybe it's not my weekend  
__But it's gonna be my year (it's gonna be my year)  
__And I'm so sick of watching while the minutes pass as I go nowhere (go nowhere)  
__And this is my reaction  
__To everything I fear (everything I fear)  
__Cause I've been going crazy I don't want to waste another minute here_

They finished the song, and Clary heard the usual polite applause that came when a band finished their rehearsals, coupled with Isabelle, her brother, and Jace screaming at the top of their lungs. Clary was considering investing in some new friends when she finally had the money. She would have to deal with her brother, however. Her mom and Luke seemed to like him.

She felt someone maul her into a hug from the side, and she turned to see that her attacker was none other than Simon.

"Why didn't you tell us you were so good?! I mean, that was so good!" he exclaimed. Clary laughed nervously at his reaction.

"Well, I guess I just didn't know I was any good."

"Are you _kidding_ me? Clary, that voice is amazing!" Kirk, one of Simon's bandmates, told her.

"Thanks, you guys."

"So does this mean you'll be playing with us?" Eric, the drummer, asked.

"I guess so," Clary replied carefully.

The three of them hollered at that and engulfed Clary in a group hug. She blushed and laughed along with them. The day of the performance, she thought, would be terrible.

But it would be worth it.

* * *

After saying goodbye to her friends, Clary and Jace got in his car and took off.

They were going to hang out at his place, of course, because Clary did not want her mother to throw more condoms at her for the time being. So they decided to just hang out at his place, though they didn't know what they were going to do, exactly.

"Music?" he asked.

"On it," she replied, plugging in her phone.

When the first song started playing, Jace whirled around to look at her. "Dude," he said. "_Dude_."

_It's all a game of this and that  
__Now versus then  
__Better off again worse for wear  
__And you're someone who knows someone  
__Who knows someone I once knew  
__I just wanna be a part of this_

_The road outside my house is paved with good intentions  
__Hired a construction crew, 'cause it's hell on the engine  
__And you are the dreamer, and we are the dream  
__I could write it better than you ever felt it_

Jace and Clary moved their heads along to the beat. They sang along, though Clary's throat was slightly sore from rehearsing.

_So hum hallelujah  
__Just off the key of reason  
__I thought I loved you  
__It was just how you looked in the light  
__A teenage vow in a parking lot  
_'_Til tonight do us part  
__I sing the blues  
__And swallow them too_

She looked over at Jace, who was staring straight ahead at the open road before them. He was singing the song, his eyes half-closed, his fingers moving along to the beat on the steering wheel. She liked looking at him like that. He spent a lot of time surprising her and looking at her, so it felt nice to be the person on the other side of that for a change.

_I love you in the same way  
__There's a chapel in a hospital  
__One foot in your bedroom  
__And one foot out the door_

Clary looked out the window as she sang. The AC made her face feel strangely cold, but she did like driving around at this time, when the sun was almost done settling and the sky was a weird shade of light navy blue. She didn't know how to describe it; she just knew that she liked it.

Once the song ended, the next song began, and it pumped her up even more. She _adored _this song; she always had, from the second she listened to it.

_The moon was shining on the lake at night  
__The slayer t-shirt fit the scene just right  
__Through smeared mascara, I looked into your eyes and saw a light  
__You told me stories about your chickadees  
__They didn't like BB guns or stupid archery  
__You charmed the lifeguard; he let them use the pool all day for free_

_Then the conversation stops and I looked down at my feet  
__I was next to you and you were right there next to me  
__And I said_

_Girl! If you're wondering if I want you to  
__I want you to  
__So make the move  
_'_Cause I ain't got all night_

She and Jace were headbanging, basically, even though that was probably dangerous in his case, since he was driving. But the roads were empty, and the music was in their veins, so they let it slide.

_The rest of the summer was the best we ever had  
__We watched Titanic and it didn't make us sad  
__I took you to Best Buy  
__You took me home to meet your mom and dad_

Clary lowered the volume a little. "As much as I love this song," she said, "I don't get how he can compare going to Best Buy to meeting her parents."

Jace faced her and said, dead serious, "Best Buy is a religious experience, Clary Fray."

She rolled her eyes and turned the volume up.

_So much pain may come our way  
__There may come a day when we have nothing left to say_

_When the conversation stops and we're facing our defeat  
__I'll be next to you and you'll be right there next to me  
__Then I'll say_

_Girl, if you're wondering if I want you to  
__I want you to  
__I swear it's true  
__Without you my heart is blue  
__Girl, if you're wondering if I want you to  
__I want you to  
__So make the move  
__Cause I ain't got all night_

Even though they were closer to his house, Clary thought that they could still get through one more song, so she let the next one play.

She spaced out during the first few lyrics, but, of course, she couldn't stay without singing for long.

_Tonight you're perfect  
__I wanna fall in love with the stars in your eyes  
__Tonight you're perfect  
__I wanna fall in love but only for the night_

Involuntarily, Clary looked over at Jace. He was singing along. It was surprising, how much music they had in common. She smiled at the thought and turned away.

By the time the song finished, the two of them made it to his house. She grabbed her bag and hopped off the car after Jace turned the engine off.

"Your house is so great," she said. "But, _seriously_, where are your parents?"

He laughed. "They're in New Haven."

"Connecticut?"

Jace nodded. "My dad's a Yale alumnus, and they had a dinner or something. They'll be back in a few days."

"They sure know how to keep busy," she muttered.

"That they do."

"Oh my God." Clary speed-walked over to the piano and squealed. "My baby."

"Oh God," she heard Jace mutter.

She leaned down and kissed the piano. "I've missed you."

"You're delirious."

"You don't appreciate this baby enough."

"I don't think anyone appreciates anything in the whole world as much as you appreciate my piano."

"Very true."

"Want me to get you something?" he asked. "Water, soda, beer, vodka…?"

"I'll go with you." She hopped off the bench.

"You don't trust me to make a drink?"

"That's how boys rape women, you know."

"You think I'm gonna rape you?!"

"One can never be too safe."

He sighed. "Fair enough. Come on."

The two of them walked into the kitchen, and Jace gave her a bottle of vodka and some juices, listing some combinations she could make off the top of his head. She settled for a mix of vodka, orange juice, a little bit of cranberry juice, and some Sprite. It tasted nice, actually. After they had their drinks, the two of them walked over to the piano—the beautiful, _beautiful _piano. Clary took a sip of her drink, sighed, and settled down on the bench, patting the empty space beside her so Jace would sit there.

"I actually have a song I wanna play for you," he said.

"Oh?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Yup."

"Go ahead, then." She scooted a little more to the side, enough so that he could play even more comfortably.

When Jace played the first few notes, a smile crept onto Clary's face. Of _course _she knew the song. She got ready and began singing alone.

_Sweet disposition  
__Never too soon  
__Oh, reckless abandon  
__Like no one's watching you_

_A moment of love  
__A dream  
__A laugh  
__A kiss  
__A cry  
__Our rights  
__Our wrongs  
__A moment of love  
__A dream  
__A laugh  
__A moment of love  
__A dream  
__A laugh_

She snuck a glance at him. He looked so focused. And beautiful, too. She had to admit that. It would be an injustice to everyone who liked people with penises.

_So stay there  
__'Cause I'll be coming over  
__While our blood's still young  
__It's so young, it runs  
__Won't stop 'til it's over  
__Won't stop to surrender_

_Songs of desperation  
__I played them for you_

_A moment of love  
__A dream  
__A laugh  
__A kiss  
__A cry  
__Our rights  
__Our wrongs  
__A moment of love  
__A dream  
__A laugh  
__A moment of love  
__A dream  
__A laugh_

He played the rest of the song, and she sang along, looking at him, at the way his fingers seemed to float above the keys rapidly. He was so good at this, she observed with a smile.

Once he hit that last key, he looked over at her. "So?"

"That was nice."

"How nice?"

"Nice enough to get you lucky. If we were, you know, together."

"And since we aren't?"

"Nice enough to let you make me another drink."

"I'll take it," he said.

The two of them walked over to the kitchen, and Clary watched as Jace mixed a drink for her. He handed it to her, and then he took the juice and vodka bottles with him.

"Here," Clary said, "let me carry the vodka bottle."

He nodded and handed it to her. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

She followed him upstairs. His room was so familiar to her now. It was strange to think that they would both be in Boston, hopefully visiting each other in completely foreign-looking rooms. It was an exciting, yet terrifying, prospect.

She climbed onto his bed, making sure not to spill her drink in the process. She took a long sip of her drink and set it down on his nightstand. He climbed onto bed with her, sitting by the window.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi."

"You said that already."

"Did I?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"You were really great today," he told her. "You know, with the singing."

"I saw you cheering for me. That was very nice, by the way. You're like my official cheerleader now."

"Hey, next time you have stage fright, I'll wear a cheerleading costume to help out with that."

She grinned. "That's a very nice offer. I'm taking you up on that."

"I'd expect nothing less."

"I mean it." Jace turned serious again. "I'm glad you gave it a chance."

She nodded. "Me too. Thanks for making me see it."

"Anytime."

The two of them were quiet for a little while. Clary drank from her cup until it was empty, and then she asked Jace to mix her another drink. He took her cup downstairs to add ice to it, and she stood up, taking this as an opportunity to look around. She didn't really see anything different; she knew Jace's room pretty well.

But she _did _have to pee.

Which she did. She figured that she didn't have to ask permission. She _knew _Jace. Jace _knew _her. It'd be _fine_.

Jace showed up as she walked back into the room. "I was peeing," she stated, taking the cup from his hands and settling down on the bed once more. "God, your bed is so comfortable."

"Yeah."

"Seriously. I could live here. Forever. I'm involved with your bed now."

"What will the piano say?"

With a straight face, she told him, "Polygamy, Jace."

He choked on his drink. "Right. Polygamy."

She drank about half of her cup's content in one go. "Hey, Jace?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you nervous?"

"About what?"

"The festival happening. Moving." She sighed, turning around to look at him. "You're just so fearless about everything. I wish I could be fearless. Everything makes me nervous, but nothing gets to you."

He smiled. "That's not true."

"I'm right." She stared at him, defiant. "Nothing makes you nervous."

"Some things make me nervous."

"Yeah? Like what?"

"Like you."

"Me?"

He looked down at her lips. "Yeah. Like you."

She looked down at his comforter, and then back at him. A part of her knew that this was a bad idea, that they'd both had about three or four cups of a really strong vodka drink, but she didn't _care_, because he looked so helplessly attractive right now, and all she wanted to do was kiss him until her lips turned purple.

Oh, no.

But then he lifted her chin. "Come here," he said softly, tugging at her hand. She set her drink down on his table and crawled over to him, settling down on his lap. It was a comfortable position, she thought. He intertwined his fingers with hers, and she held onto his hands.

And then pulled on her hands gently, and she leaned forward. He kissed her softly, in a way that surprised her, and then she realized that she didn't want to be kissed softly by the guy with the amazing piano and the drinks that made her want to pee every two seconds. He dropped one of her hands, and she placed it on the back of his neck, and she positioned herself closer to him, deepening the kiss.

When she came up for air, however, she realized what just happened.

She sobered up pretty quickly after realizing that she had _just kissed Jace. _Her friend! Her very, very good friend! Jace! Her cheerleader!

"I have to go," she said, stumbling to untangle himself from him. "Thanks for the song and the drinks and I'll see you at rehearsal."

She grabbed her bag and bolted.

"Wait!" Jace called out. "Clary, this is crazy. You can't go home like this."

"I'll be fine!" she told him. "Really. Don't worry about me."

"Clary—"

"I'd tell you otherwise." She couldn't meet his eyes. "Thanks again. See ya."

She ran out of his house so fast that he couldn't even say goodbye.

She didn't know what to do. He'd been right when he said that she couldn't show up to her house like this. Her mother would murder her. Actually, literally murder her.

So she did the only thing she could do.

For about an hour, Clary Fray roamed around, walking up and down the beach. Sand got in her shoes, but she didn't care. Her phone's flashlight lit the way, and the sound of waves crashing, along with the familiar scent of saltwater, soothed her. She felt a lot better (and a lot more sober) when she showed up at her house.

Dinner had been served already, so her mother had left her some leftovers in the microwave, but she wasn't hungry. She poured herself some water in a cup, put a _lot _of ice in it, and took it upstairs with her, careful not to wake anyone up.

She couldn't believe what had just happened.

God, she was an idiot. She'd just messed up another friendship. She was going to lose him—forever. And all because she couldn't keep it in her pants.

_But he kissed you_, a voice in the back of her mind said.

Damn right, he did.

* * *

_Let us know what you think!_


	19. Bloom

_clarissadele: Sorry for the late update! I'd like to think Jocelyn is pretty funny here. Hope you like it!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hi, guys! So sorry for the late update. I had a busy-ish day, and it totally slipped my mind. Here you go, though! Thanks for reading, and I hope you like the chapter!_

* * *

_In the morning when I wake  
__And the sun is coming through  
__Oh you fill my lungs with sweetness  
__And you fill my head with you_

_Shall I write it in a letter?  
__Shall I try to get it down?  
__Oh, you fill my head with pieces  
__Of a song I can't get out_

_Can I get close to you?_

"Bloom" by The Paper Kites

* * *

The day before the festival, Clary Fray woke up to the sunlight hitting her face.

She wanted to die.

She'd gone over to Jace's house to drink the previous night as a way to calm down. She was, understandably, freaked out over the fact that she was performing in front of _hundreds _of people. For the first time ever. In a festival that was meant to honor her deceased best friend's memory. She felt this insane pressure to perform flawlessly, and, though she was sure everyone felt that way, it was as if though it was magnified for her.

Anyway, she'd drank the whole night with Jace. They didn't talk about the kiss since it happened; they skirted around the issue expertly. They were most likely going to talk about it eventually, but the festival was a pressing issue, and they couldn't risk going into a complicated phase in their friendship at such an important time.

So they put it on hold.

Clary squinted at the sunlight and turned around to find Jace next to her, with his back to her. He was still sleeping; she could tell by his slow, steady breaths, and because he didn't respond to her saying his name softly. She checked under the pillow, and, sure enough, her phone was there. Once she saw that it had _some _battery life left, she unlocked it and checked her messages.

She had a text from her mom that read: _I saw that you stayed over at Jace's. Did you use protection? _

_Oh my God_, she thought to herself.

She clicked on Isabelle's contact name. She really needed her. She hadn't even told Izzy, one of her very best friends _ever_, about the kiss. She didn't even know why. It just...didn't happen. She felt like avoiding the subject altogether, but she knew that Isabelle would kick her ass for it. Hell, she'd kick her _own _ass once the festival was over, because best friends did not keep this kind of thing from one another.

Clary yawned and tapped Jace on the shoulder. When he didn't respond, she shook him; when he remained motionless, she shook him harder and said his name repeatedly. She resisted the urge to stand over him, because that would require her straddling his waist (unless she wanted to lose her balance and fall on top of him), and that did not sound quite as appealing to her as it probably would to just about any other girl who took one look at him. It wasn't that she didn't think he was attractive, because she _definitely _did. She just didn't want to find something else to make things awkward for the two of them. One kiss was definitely enough.

"Hmm?" he muttered, moving over to face her. He opened one eye and groaned. "Clary?"

"Uh-huh."

"You stayed over."

"Were you that drunk?"

He shook his head. "No. I remember. _God_, why is it so bright in here?"

"We left the blinds open." She moved over to close them slightly. "I'm freaking out, Jace."

"Why?" He leaned on his elbows and blinked repeatedly. "What's up?"

"The festival's tomorrow."

He nodded. "I believe that's why we drank so much rum last night."

Clary sighed. "I have to perform in front of so many people tomorrow."

"I know."

"For the first time."

"I _know_."

"And I'm freaking out!"

Jace smiled slightly. "Clary—"

"I mean, what if I mess up?"

"Listen—"

"What if I trip? Oh my _God,_ Jace, _what if I trip onstage_?"

"_Clary_," he said gently, taking her hands and placing them on his lap. "I need you to listen to me." When she didn't say anything, he continued. "There are a lot of reasons to be nervous. I understand." _How could you possibly understand?_ Clary thought to herself. She could never picture him as nervous, even if he'd said before that he was. She didn't say anything, though; she just listened to him. "But you are so great, Clary. I mean it. On and off the stage."

"Really?"

He nodded. "Definitely."

She smiled and settled back into bed. "Thanks."

"Are you gonna keep sleeping?"

"Probably."

"What time is it?" he asked.

"I don't know."

"_Eight in the morning_?"

"Set an alarm for ten," she told him. "Rehearsal is at eleven."

"Isabelle's gonna kill us if we're late."

"So we won't be late."

"I'm setting it for nine forty-five."

"Nine thirty, actually. I need to go home, shower, and change."

"So we're sleeping for another hour and a half, basically?"

She shrugged. "Basically."

Jace shrugged his shoulders as well, imitating her. "Sounds like a plan."

They both fell back asleep until the alarm went off, and simultaneously groaned, because apparently they still hadn't gotten enough sleep. And Clary wasn't quite sure if it was the nerves or the hangover talking, but she _so _was not ready for today.

Very slowly, Clary peeled herself off of Jace's bed, and they both made their way down the stairs.

"Breakfast?" he asked her, headed towards the kitchen.

"Nah, I need to get home and shower. Thanks for the offer, though."

"Eat something before I pick you up, will you?"

"Yeah, yeah," she dismissed him, knowing very well that she probably wouldn't, based on time, not to mention nerves. Clary shoved her feet into her shoes and dashed out the door.

It didn't take long to get to her house from Jace's, and Clary prayed to all the gods she knew of that her mom wouldn't be around. No such luck, as she opened the door to find Jocelyn perched on the staircase, blocking any attempt Clary could make to dash to her bedroom.

"Clary. You didn't answer my text," her mother scolded her.

"Sorry, I didn't see it until just now," Clary lied, trying to squeeze past Jocelyn to get upstairs. Her mom, however, just moved to block her way again.

"So? Did you? Because I know that kids your age get into doing—_things_ these days, but I just want to make sure that you are taking the proper precautions and—"

"Oh my god, Mom," Clary said, covering her face with her hands. "Stop! We didn't _do_ anything, okay? We just stayed up really late talking about the festival and I fell asleep over there." And they consumed large amounts of alcohol, but it wasn't as though she was going to tell her mother _that._

"Okay, but remember that I did give you those condoms for a reason. Wrap it before you tap it, that's what I always say."

"_Mom_," Clary groaned. At least Jace wasn't here for this one. _God, _that would be embarrassing.

"I'm just saying. Well, you must have places to be, so I'll let you get ready. It's like I never see you, sweetheart. But if you're happy, I'm happy." Jocelyn kissed her forehead and moved out of Clary's way.

"Thanks, Mom," Clary said, giving her a hug before dashing up the stairs because, shit, she was probably already late. She slammed the door to the upstairs bathroom and proceeded to turn the water on and strip her clothes.

Clary jumped in the shower with her hair tied up into a messy bun, knowing she had no time to wash it, and vowed not to get it wet. She was still feeling insanely jittery from nerves, and hoped that singing her default shower song, "Everybody Talks" by Neon Trees, would help calm her down.

_Hey baby won't you look my way  
__I could be your new addiction  
__Hey baby what you got to say  
__All you're giving me is fiction  
__I'm a sorry sucker and this happens all the time  
__I find out that_

_Everybody talks  
__Everybody talks  
__Everybody talks  
__Everybody talks_

Clary and Isabelle had loved this song forever, and, when they were together, come the chorus, they would both be jumping up and down and shouting the lyrics at each other. But, alas, she didn't want to slip and die, or worse, piss off her family, so she refrained from the jumping and shouting.

_It started with a whisper  
__And that was when I kissed her  
__And then she made my Lips hurt  
__I can even chit-chat  
__Take me to your love shack  
__Mama's always got a backtrack  
__And everybody talks, babe_

Clary deduced that she was relatively clean, so she hopped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around her body, and dashed to her room to find clean clothes. Once dressed, and having deemed that she looked semi-decent for their final dress rehearsal, Clary grabbed her bag and phone before yelling to her mom that she'd be back in the evening probably.

She stepped outside to where Jace was already waiting for her. He was already playing music—not that Clary was complaining; they basically had the same music tastes anyway. She jumped into the passenger seat of his car, and he tossed something into her lap.

"What's this?" she asked.

"A sandwich. I can smell your bullshit from a mile away, Clary."

"Well, I hope it doesn't smell too bad, then," she replied, taking a bite. "Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem."

They made it to the venue in record time, probably because they both knew that they were already running late. But, if Isabelle knew when she greeted them, she didn't say anything about it.

"Are you freaking out? Because I'm freaking out. And I barely have to do anything! But I'm still seriously freaking out." Clary rolled her eyes at her friend's antics.

"Yes, Izzy, I am freaking out. Do not worry. That is a thing. Tomorrow will come, and I will still be freaking out."

"Not surprising. But, in all seriousness, are you alright?" Isabelle's tone shifted with the mood of her words.

"Honestly? Tomorrow's going to be hard, and I'm nervous as hell, but I'm feeling better than I have in forever. But I have to talk to you about something later," Clary said, lowering her voice. Jace had left them alone after they arrived, but she didn't really want to risk him hearing.

"Okay," Isabelle nodded her head. "Come on. Simon and the band are arguing again, and, technically, you are in the band now, so this is your argument as well."

"Lucky me," Clary muttered sarcastically. Nevertheless, she followed Isabelle to where everyone else was.

They were arguing about the band name.

"What's up?" Clary asked Simon.

"Clary!" Her friend smiled widely at her. "Listen, I was wondering if we could change the band name to Mouse Rat."

"That's illegal," she pointed out.

"No one will notice. Or care. Right?"

"Simon." She placed both hands on his shoulders. "I love you, but you've been watching too many _Parks and Rec _episodes lately."

"No such thing," he said.

"I thought that too, but I was mistaken." She sighed. "Listen, it's too late to change the name, and it's also illegal, so let's not do it, okay?"

He groaned. "Fine."

"Awesome."

The other guys thanked her, and Eric even hugged her and called her his favorite. Wow. Those guys really didn't want their band name to change.

Rehearsal was going to be extra long that day; every single band was rehearsing, because the lineup had to sound perfect. So Clary sat and waited until it was their turn to perform. And there were so many people there, like We Are The In Crowd and Walk Off The Earth and Isabelle and Will and Jem and Seelie and Aline and _so many others_, and it just freaked her out. Slightly.

But she performed. She willed her voice not to waver and prayed for whatever force controlled things to please not let her trip on their practice stage. And, by the end of it, things were good. People seemed to be enjoying it, and she had loosened up. It felt good.

For the first time since she agreed to play, she felt slightly close to ready.

* * *

_Let us know what you think! xo_


	20. Born For This

_clarissadele: Hey wonderful people! So rippingbutterflywings is actually moving today so I'm here updating instead! Good luck, man, enjoy living on your own! I have a friend coming from Paris today, and I actually have to leave soon to pick her up at the airport, but thank you all for your kind reviews and your favourites/follows! Enjoy this chapter!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hey, guys. clarissadele is posting for me today, as I'm gonna be traveling most of the time (I move out today! yay!). Anyway, I really wish I could've written more than I did for this chapter, though hopefully I won't be able to say the same thing of 21. These past few days have been really difficult, but thank you for all of your support in regards to AIW! I hope you like this chapter. :)_

* * *

_Everybody sing_

_Like it's the last song you will ever sing -_

_Everybody live_

_Like it's the last day you will ever see_

"Born For This" by Paramore

* * *

The day of the festival, Clary woke up feeling like she was going to vomit. She was so nervous that she felt like she might have an anxiety attack. The festival was today. _The festival was today_. She sent a text to Jace that said the exact same thing, and his response was something along the lines of _yes it is_.

Clary took a few deep breaths before walking over to her closet, wondering what the _hell_ she was supposed to wear to a music festival she had organized for her dead best friend. She settled on a pair of jean shorts, a white t-shirt, an unbuttoned plaid shirt over it, and her pair of worn Converse. She didn't think anyone would be dressed formally or anything like at the funeral. Or at least she hoped not.

Clary bounced down the stairs and continued to text Jace as she decided to actually eat breakfast, no matter how nervous she was. He seemed calm enough, but Clary liked to think that she knew him well enough by now to know that he was probably freaking out too, if only a little bit less so than she was. Clary always forgot that Jace had been close with Jordan too. They had played on the same soccer team for four years. They were _friends_, and good ones at that.

"Hey, Mom. Luke," Clary greeted her parents.

"Good morning, sweetheart. Big day today, hey?" her mom asked.

Clary groaned. "Don't remind me."

"You're going to do great," Luke said, patting her on the shoulder. "Both of you."

"Yeah, well, it's been a while, so I hope so," Jonathan said, coming into the kitchen and alerting Clary of his presence.

"Listen, sweetheart," Jocelyn said, once again focussing her attention on Clary. "I know that these last few months haven't been easy on you, and, admittedly, we haven't made them much easier, but you have to know how incredibly proud of you Luke and I are. And we'll be there tomorrow to support you for your show with the band."

"Thanks, Mom. It really means a lot that. I just don't know how I'll get through things like the performance tomorrow and the speeches."

"Speeches?"

"Yeah, we were all talking, and someone decided that it would be the _best_ idea for me, the person with the worst public speaking abilities and worst social anxiety of us all, to give the speech tomorrow. I mean, I guess they decided that I was closest to Jordan out of everyone—not counting Maia, but she just couldn't do it—but I just don't know how I'm going to do it, Mom."

Jocelyn came around the kitchen island to give Clary a hug. "Everything is going to work out, sweetheart. You'll do great. Now, I think you need to get going. Jace is coming to pick you up soon to set up, isn't he?"

"Yeah," Clary answered, grabbing her purse and phone. "What, no jabs about Jace and our 'relationship'?"

Jocelyn smirked at her, as though it had all been just a large joke the whole time. "Well, you can never be too careful, sweetheart."

Clary groaned, bidding goodbye to her mom and heading for the door just as Jace honked his horn.

"Hey," she said, jumping into the passenger seat.

"Hey. Are you ready for today?"

"I think so."

"Are you scared?"

"Hell yes."

Jace laughed, and, in his language, she was pretty sure it meant that he was agreeing with her. They got to the venue pretty quickly, but, hey, Jace wasn't known for always going the speed limit.

"Wow." Clary gaped. The stage looked absolutely amazing, Bat and his team had done a great job at setting most everything up. Kaelie had come through on her end as well—Taki's had already driven a truck over, and they were setting up for sales. Now that she could see it all out in front of her, she knew that _Kyle's Legacy _was really coming together.

"Clary!" She turned and saw Isabelle, who had been the one to call her name.

"Hey," she replied, giving her friend a hug. "Can you believe that this is actually happening?"

"I know. It just all feels so surreal."

"Do you think he'd be happy?" Isabelle asked.

"Who?"

"Jordan. Do you think he'd be happy we're doing all this for him?"

"Well," Clary said jokingly, "Jordan always was one for big flashy parties." Isabelle frowned at her attempt to brush it off. "But yeah. I think he'd like it."

"And he'd love that you're going to take his place on stage tomorrow. Come on, we have to go help Jace and Maia deal with telling volunteers what to do and security guys and whatever. They look like they're having the _time_ of their lives."

Isabelle grabbed onto Clary's arm and started tugging her back the way she came in. She grabbed Simon along the way as well.

"Hey," Maia greeted them.

"Hey, Maia. How are you holding up?" Isabelle questioned.

"I'm alright. Today and tomorrow will probably be really emotional, but I'll get through it. There was one thing I did want to talk to you guys about, though." When everyone raised their eyebrows at her, she continued. "Are we going to tell Jordan's parents about, you know, the diary?"

Clary sucked in a breath. The diary was a touchy subject for all of them, and she couldn't imagine what his parents would do if they saw it.

"I don't think we should," Clary said. "We all went through enough reading that thing, and there is no reason why they need to see it. Jordan's parents saw him the exact same way we did, and he truly was their baby boy. We don't need to put them through what we felt reading that thing or taint their memory of him."

Her friends nodded in agreement. There was an unsaid protest hanging in the air—did they have the right to withhold such crucial information from Jordan's parents?—but they ignored it. It really would make his parents feel even worse than they already did, and, as much as they appreciated the value of honesty, they also knew that, in this particular case, it wouldn't do anything except open the floor up for more questions that would never be answered and bring an already-grieving family more things to worry about.

They divided up into teams to check that everything was in place. The festival started in an hour, so the opening band, We Are The In Crowd, was setting up. Clary saw them from a distance as they tried to set up their equipment and tuned their instruments and whatnot, and she tried _really _hard not to fangirl like an actual idiot as she approached them.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Clary. I'm helping coordinate this event, and I'm a _huge _fan."

She got nice responses from the band, through which she felt like fainting, and then ran over to Jace and freaked about how, _oh my God, Jace, _she just talked to We Are The In Crowd! Jace laughed at her, and told her that he actually already had, too. Clary was pretty sure he hadn't made a huge fool of himself though, or told them he was a _huge fan_.

She was just about to go call Isabelle to report that things were okay when she saw Alec and Magnus walking towards her and Jace. They were holding hands, which she thought was the most adorable thing on the planet, and she rushed over to them, Jace trailing behind her awkwardly. He didn't really know Magnus and Alec, she realized, but, by then, she was already jumping into Alec's arms.

It wasn't that they were the closest people on the planet. In fact, Clary barely knew anything about Alec. She knew that he would die for his family, and that he was fascinated by history and archery and books, and that he loved instrumental music, and that he was shy, and that he loved Magnus. But that was where her knowledge of him ended. Still, they'd known each other for so long that there was an unspoken bond between them, mostly from the times she and Isabelle would help him through figuring out who he was and who he wanted to be (and be with).

"Oh, don't be selfish, Alec," Magnus said, tapping his boyfriend's shoulder so he would let go of her. "I wanna hug Clary."

"You just like feeling tall," she told him, standing on her tiptoes so she could hug him. "Hi, guys."

"Hi."

"This is Jace."

The two of them looked over at him and greeted him. He didn't seem too fazed by Magnus's attire, to which he had gone all out as it was a music festival. His eyes were lined purple, his hair was gelled up, and he wore leather pants and a rainbow button-up shirt. Clary thought that his outfit very much captured the basis of his personality.

"Anyway," Magnus stated. "We're going to go get food, then get close to the stage before everyone else gets here. Catch you later, Clary. Clary's friend. Good luck!" They both waved, and Clary lost sight of them in the small crowd that was beginning to gather. Wait. _Crowd?_

Clary looked around and was taken aback by how many people were already there. There was no way that she and her friends could have ever anticipated that there were already as many people as they had expected, _and then some. _Clary looked back at Jace, and knew that her face must mirror his, for he was also gaping out at the people surrounding them. Clary saw Isabelle pulling Simon and Maia through the crowd towards them, and knew, even before she said it, what she was going to say.

"You _guys_! Look at how many people are here!"

"Yeah," Maia smiled sadly. "Jordan would have been so happy to see all these people here."

Clary hugged her friend in response. "I know he would have, Maia." Clary turned to Isabelle, "did you see your brother?"

"Yeah, briefly. He and Magnus said something about finding hamburgers and talking to me later though."

"Sounds about right."

"Yeah. Okay, guys," Isabelle checked her phone. "It's almost four o'clock, so Jace, you should get up there and get this show on the road."

He nodded. "Right."

Jace stood, and started walking up the stairs to the stage, and Clary watched as everyone's attention turned towards him as he grabbed the microphone. Clary saw many girls in the crowd giving him the once over, others shouting things at him such as "hey hot stuff," or "why don't you come over here and I'll show you a good time." Clary found herself incredibly grossed out, tons of these women must be over thirty _at least_. Jace didn't seem too bothered, but then again, he had always been better at hiding his feelings towards the opinions of others.

"Hey, everyone, welcome to _Kyle's Legacy!_" He yelled out to the crowd, who clapped loudly, with some whistling coming from where Clary assumed she would find her classmates, and even more people who thought Jace was hot. "I'm Jace, and I'm one of the people who put this festival together. Not all of you would have known my friend Jordan Kyle, but he died this spring, and this festival will hopefully do him proud.

"Jordan was a musician himself, his band, actually will be playing tomorrow, so come back tomorrow and see The Mortal Instruments," Jace grinned slyly at Clary, and she flipped him the finger in reply. "Anyway, all of the money collected from the festival will be going towards New York Foundation for the Arts, which Jordan heavily supported himself. On behalf of my friends and I, have a great time at the festival, and let me introduce our first band, We Are The In Crowd!"

Everyone clapped and hooted, and Clary swore that she heard one of those women yell "come back here with that cute ass of yours!" at Jace as he walked away, but she would really rather _not_ think about that.

"Did you hear what those girls were shouting at you?" Clary asked him as he approached her.

"Yeah, and it was incredibly rude. I think I'm scarred, some of them were like twice my age."

They stood together watching as the band introduced themselves, and it really finally hit Clary that _this was actually happening._ She had dreamed and worried about the festival for weeks, but now, here it was, and so far, everything was great.

"You know," Jace said after a while, "Don't you think it's strange that we've lived in the same neighbourhood for years, but we only just became friends?"

"Well, I mean we didn't really have the same group of friends, Jace."

"Yeah, but we had Jordan. We were both friends with him, lived in the same area, yet the three of us never hung out together."

Clary contemplated this, and knew that her younger self would have _never_ thought to try and make friends with Jace Wayland before. But then again, she had known nothing about him.

"I guess," she said, "things really do happen for a reason, no matter how shitty that reason may be."

"Yeah."

They allowed themselves to be pulled back to where their friends were standing, and Clary was content to just stand there shouting out lyrics with the people she loved.

* * *

_Tell us what you think! x_


	21. Home

_clarissadele: Hey, everyone, we are so so sorry that this update is really late! These past few weeks have been insanely crazy, and time just got away from us. We didn't actually finish this chapter until last night, but I hope it's up to your expectations. Thanks for reading, as always, and we'll see you in the epilogue!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hey, guys! I know it's been literally ages since we updated, but, as some of you know, I've been going through the whole college thang for the first time (moving away, getting settled in, managing the workload, making friends, etc.) and I've barely had time to write. I've literally been contributing to this chapter when I have breaks between classes or when I take a break from studying. College has been crazy, but good. Anyway! This is the last chapter, and then there's gonna be an epilogue, and then it's done. I hope you guys like it!__Man, oh man, you're my best friend_

* * *

_Man, oh man, you're my best friend_

_I scream it to the nothingness_

_There ain't nothing that I need_

_Let me come home_

_Home is wherever I'm with you_

_Oh, home_

_Let me come home_

_Home is wherever I'm with you_

_I'll follow you into the park_

_through the jungle_

_through the dark_

_Girl I've never loved one like you_

_Moats and boats and waterfalls_

_alleyways and payphone calls_

_I've been everywhere with you_

_Laugh until we'll think we'll die_

_Barefoot on a summer night_

_Never could be sweeter than with you_

_And in the streets we're running free_

_Like it's only you and me_

_"Home" _By Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes

* * *

After their incredibly successful first day, Clary and her friends prepared to close the second (and last) day with a bang. She was nervous about performing, and could barely even breathe at the thought of standing in front of so many people and singing.

It wasn't like she'd ever done it professionally. She'd never taken lessons. She'd never done it in front of a crowd. She'd never been judged on her ability to sing. Maybe, if she had, she'd have learned a few things about singing. Knowledge always made her more confident. To know things, after all, was to have more ways to face different situations. That would never be a bad thing, and she knew it.

But there she was, backstage, getting ready. She could feel the music in her veins as it filled her with happiness and anxiety all at once. The crowd was loud; the noise unnerved her, made her feel overwhelmed. She went on in half an hour, and she was very much not ready.

She stood over by the side of the stage, watching Kaleidoscope play one of their original songs. They were good, she had to admit. She let the music relax her as she took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes.

She kept her eyes closed as the audience cheered and clapped and whatnot. She hoped they would do the same for her and the rest of the band.

"Okay, guys, it's been a pleasure to sing for you," Kaleidoscope's lead singer spoke into the microphone. "But now we have a very special performance, so stay tuned."

Her eyes snapped open. She'd reviewed the lineup and schedule about a billion times, and there was no mention of this anywhere. She looked around until she found her best friend, but Isabelle was looking at her phone. Clary saw Jace pushing his way through the small crowd of volunteers that had gathered backstage, so she pushed her way towards him, meaning to ask if he knew anything about what the hell was going on. She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"This one's for you," he whispered in her ear, leaving Clary with her jaw dropped, completely flabbergasted as he strolled out onto the stage.

"So, hey, everyone," Jace said into the microphone as she tried to get a better view of him. "I know I wasn't technically on the schedule, but I really wanted to sing this song for this girl I like, and I hope you like it too." Isabelle came up to stand beside Clary as she continued to stand there in shock.

"Continue to stand there with your mouth wide open like that and you'll start to catch flies."

"Did you know about this?"

Isabelle didn't reply as Jace started to play the introduction to his song on the piano.

_Wise men say only fools rush in_

_but I can't help falling in love with you_

Clary once again found herself completely shocked, because Jace, that smooth bastard, had caught her by surprise a second time now. Clary absolutely _adored_ this song. She lived, breathed, and sang this song all day every day. She and Jace had spent a good half an hour one day just talking about this song and how the Twenty One Pilots version with the piano made it even more beautiful.

And God, Clary wouldn't be surprised if he had been planning this ever since that day.

_Shall I stay_

_Would it be a sin_

_If I can't help falling in love with you_

Clary turned to Isabelle, who was smiling like an idiot right back at her. Any doubts that her friends hadn't known about Jace's surprise completely vanished then and there.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_

_Darling so it goes_

_Some things are meant to be_

_Take my hand, take my whole life too_

_For I can't help falling in love with you_

Clary was still staring at Jace, completely awestruck, when he turned to look at her, as if feeling her gaze on him, and grinned. Clary took in that smile and the look on her face and wondered how on earth she could have been so damn oblivious. He had been looking at her the same way for a while now, ever since that drunken kiss in his bedroom.

_Like a river flows surely to the sea_

_Darling so it goes_

_some things are meant to be_

_take my hand, take my whole life too_

_for I can't help falling in love with you_

_for I can't help falling in love with you_

Jace played the last note, and the crowd went crazy. The women from the day before had obviously come back and had started hooting at him again, using words and phrases that Clary would later try to block from her memory.

"Thank you." He bowed and stood up. It was adorable, she thought. "The closing act will be up here in a minute. It's been a pleasure to play for all of you."

They cheered him on as he exited the stage and walked up to Clary. Her heart was beating so insanely quickly and loudly that she thought everyone could hear it. She hated that she had to go up on that stage so quickly, that she couldn't just be with him and enjoy the moment.

Jace grinned at her as he walked to where she stood. "What'd you think?"

She couldn't help but smile. She pulled him into a hug and buried her face on his shoulder, trying to soak it all in. He was real, and she was real, and everything was so very real. She looked up at him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and stood on her tiptoes. His hands went around her waist, pulling her in, and she thought that his lips were softer than the clouds. And he was beautiful.

And someone was calling her name.

"Sorry, babe," Isabelle said. "You're on."

Clary kissed him quickly. "We're not through here."

"And thank God for that." He smiled. "Break a leg, Fray."

"Only if you carry me home after."

He smiled once more, and she walked towards the stage. She was shaking, overwhelmed with emotion, and her band mates were waiting.

She grabbed the mic after it'd been tested and went up the stage. The crowd immediately went insane, hollering and whooping and cheering.

There were so many people. Clary didn't know how to focus. She smiled at them, though. Despite the nerves and her racing heart and everything else.

"Hi," she breathed into the microphone. The crowd cheered again, and she chuckled. "We are so excited to be closing off this show. We've spent the whole summer planning this out, and seeing it happen has been a dream come true. I love every single one of you for showing up to this. It means the world." She took a deep, shaky breath. "My best friend, Jordan, was one of the most amazing people in the world. But he was just a person. I don't want this festival to make you think he was some sort of godly creature or whatever. He was just good. Good at heart. And that was all it took for him to be loved by everyone, for people to want this type of event to be commemorated so that he would be remembered. He may have been a person, but he was the best person."

She looked around at everyone. At her band mates, at her friends backstage, at the crowd. She took a breath. "I know you guys didn't know Jordan like we did. He was kind and brave and smart and talented and funny, and I want him to be more than a tragedy, because he was special. He was more. So, as this festival comes to a close, I just want to say thank you for helping us celebrate his life."

The crowd clapped, but slightly hesitantly. She laughed. "Okay, without further ado: we are The Mortal Instruments."

Clary and the band played through their set list just as they had rehearsed it. Clary's nerves slowly ebbed away, knowing that her friends were rooting her on, and, _holy jesus_, she had just kissed Jace. The crowd seemed to be enjoying their performance, and that also played a part in allowing Clary to loosen up and just enjoy the moment.

The Mortal Instruments closed the show with "Weightless," and everyone was clapping.

"For Jordan," Simon yelled into his microphone, and the cry was quickly echoed by the rest of the band and half of the crowd.

Clary yelled a few closing words to the audience before she turned to run offstage and rejoin her friends. Isabelle and Maia, however, were the only ones there.

"Where's Jace?" Clary asked them, slightly out of breath.

"I think he went to talk to some friends after you guys finished playing," Maia told her, and Clary took off in the direction she pointed.

She found him only a few moments later, standing next to the stage talking to a few boys that Clary vaguely recognized from school, and she didn't even care that he was surrounded by other people, and she thought she might've seen her mother a few feet away, but she slammed into him anyway, kissing him right on the mouth. Jace staggered backwards to catch his balance, but he kissed her back, and she took that as a good sign.

Eventually, they pulled apart, and Clary was very thankful that the boys from their school had decided that it was probably a good idea to leave them alone.

"So, I guess it's a good thing that we're going to universities in the same city, then?" Jace asked her, grinning.

"Yeah," Clary replied with a smirk of her own. "I mean, now I won't have to look too far for a quickie between classes."

"You know I'm only in it for those boobs, Fray," Jace said with a completely straight face. The look in his eyes told her everything she needed to know, however, and she kissed him again.

She looked around as people began to file out of the venue. She leaned into him, exhausted yet very much alive. "We don't have to clean this up, right?"

He laughed. "We can sneak out."

"I knew I liked you for a reason."

And so they did. She was a little terrified of running into Isabelle, who would both undoubtedly want to give a heartening speech about the importance of the festival and also want to murder the two of them for attempting to sneak off. But they ran to his truck, hand in hand, and went through their routine: rushing to get in, him handing her the aux cord, her picking the music.

It was midnight and the summer sky was clear and full of stars. They had their windows rolled down and the AC still on, letting the warm air mix with the cold one as the breeze hit their faces and the music made their hearts beat faster.

_My hands wrapped around your stick shift _

_Swerving off the 405, I could never keep my eyes off this_

_My neck, the feeling of your soft lips _

_Illuminated in the light, bouncing off the exit signs I missed _

_All we do is drive _

_All we do is think about the feelings that we hide _

_All we do is sit in silence, looking for a sign _

_Sick and full of pride _

_All we do is drive _

_And California never felt like home to me _

_And California never felt like home _

_And California never felt like home to me _

_Until I had you on the open road_

_And now we're singing _

Clary couldn't help but look over at him. He wasn't singing along, leading her to think that he didn't know the song, but she liked that he was taking it in. He looked at peace, and, surprisingly, she did not feel entirely like that. She felt the anticipation of the unknown rising within her, and it made her want to stop the car and just kiss him, because she never really got a chance to do it right.

The summer was ending, and the festival was over, but Clary, for the first time, wasn't dreading moving away from her home and her friends. University was just around the corner, but she was able to relax, knowing that she wouldn't be going through it all alone.

As she leaned back into the front seat of Jace's truck, she reflected on this summer that she'd never forget, both for the good and the bad. Despite everything, she was happy. She thought of Jordan, and knew he would be too. As cliché as it sounded, she and Jace drove away as the sun set, and she knew that they would be okay.

* * *

_Tell us what you think! xo_


	22. Epilogue: Haunted

_clarissadele: Holy shit you guys, we actually finished! This has been such a crazy experience for me. I've never written anything with anyone else before, and this is honestly probably one of the best finished products I could have hoped for. My writing has gotten so much better just from collabing with rippingbutterflywings and as sad as I am that this fic is over, I have a feeling it won't be the last one we write together. Thank you all for reading/reviewing/favouriting/following this story! Sorry we made you wait so long for these last few updates, but I won't keep blabbing. Enjoy the epilogue!_

_rippingbutterflywings: Hi, guys! So...sorry for the delay, because I know this was supposed to be up a looong time ago, but life got in the way. Anyway, here it is! The end of AIW! These are a bunch of letters Jordan wrote to everyone who was important to him, pretty much. They never find them, but we thought it was a nice way to tie the story together. It's been a pleasure to write this story with clarissadele, and reading your reviews has been amazing. Thank you so much for everything. I hope you like the epilogue! X_

* * *

_Long lost words whisper slowly to me  
__Still can't find what keeps me here  
__When all this time I've been so hollow inside_

"Haunted" by Evanescence

* * *

_Dearest Maia,_

_I've tried to start this letter so many times, but the truth is, I think we've already said it all, haven't we? I still love you. You must know that. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it, no matter how much I've tried. I can't ever seem to stop thinking about you. Why is that?_

_The truth is that, after the whole ordeal with Aline, I was hurt. You already knew that, but I felt like I needed to say it again. I didn't think I could ever trust you again. I tried to make it work, I really did. Up until our last moments together, I was still trying. But I guess I have trust issues. I still just couldn't keep you close enough to my heart in fear that you would just stomp on it all over again._

_Find someone who'll be good to you, Maia. I'm sorry I couldn't be that guy. But I swear, if whoever you end up with hurts you, I'll come back from the grave just to knock him on his fucking ass. You're still my family, and I'll be damned if I let death come between that._

_Love always,_

_Jordan_

* * *

_Simon,_

_My fellow Marvel nerd. My fiercest video game rival. My loyal friend. You must feel like shit reading this. I sure as hell feel like shit for writing it. I'm sorry, man. I fucked up. I know the rest of them will be thinking that your friendship wasn't enough for me, but it was. God, it was. But I couldn't do it anymore._

_You all have each other. And you need to be strong for Izzy and Clary. I'm not telling you this because I think that our friendship meant any less to you than to the others, but I know how they're all going to take it, and I know that they'll need you. I'm sorry for putting you all in a position like this. I'm so sorry. _

_Take care of them all for me. Do me a favour and tell me how _Civil War _ends in the afterlife. I've got many regrets, but not knowing how Marvel finishes the series is going to be at the top of that list. Good luck to you, homie. Don't fuck yourself up too much, okay? Save some booze for everyone else._

_Jordan_

* * *

_Izzy, _

_I apologize for some of the cheesiness ahead._

_I fucked up. I know you're probably thinking that I'm the biggest dumbass out there, and you're right, and I'm sorry. I know that you're probably thinking something along the lines of "Damn straight, you're sorry," and I deserve that. I deserve everything you're thinking about me, because I know how crappy it is for me to do this to all of you. _

_But listen: you have Simon and Clary and Maia. Maybe the latter isn't as important to you, but you and Clary are best friends, and you and Simon are inseparable. I seriously see the way your eyes shine whenever you guys hang out. It's honestly the kind of thing I wish I could have. If I'd had that to hold onto, I don't think I ever would've wanted to let go. _

_Iz, you're one of my best friends. You're hot as hell, smart, talented, funny, caring, compassionate-I know that what I've done is going to affect you, but don't let it take these things away from you. I love you, boo. _

_Yours, _

_Jordan_

* * *

_Mom &amp; Dad, _

_This isn't easy for me to write, as I'm sure it isn't easy for you to read. I know. I'm sorry. It probably seems like an empty, ignorant, nonchalant apology, but it comes from the deepest part of me. I'm so so sorry that I couldn't be the son you wanted. I'm sorry that I couldn't be stronger, smarter, more ambitious, more talented...__more__. I messed up a lot throughout my life, and I wish I had the energy or resources to make it up to you. I know, in the most rational of ways, that you'll always expect more of me than what I'm able to give. And most kids grow to be okay with that, because they know that it's their parents wanting them to be better, to be happy, but I'm not okay with that. And I just can't handle it. _

_I know that's disappointing. That my weakness is horrible, an abomination, the worst thing ever. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I'm the only chance you got, and that now it's just gone. I wish I could've been better for you. _

_But, at the same time, I wish you would've been better for me too. _

_Love, _

_Jordan_

* * *

_Jon, _

_Everything that happened between our friend group was fucked up, and I'm sorry that I was such a dick, because you were one of the most loyal, talented, badass people I've ever met-with the exception of your sister, of course, but still. _

_I often wish I could go back to those late nights we'd have, you know, when we'd stay up all night with instruments in our hands and drinks all over the room, playing music in the clumsiest of ways, with laughter filling the room when the strumming of our guitars ceased. We would both sing super off-key, and sometimes the girls would join in, and it was ridiculous. I would give anything to go back. _

_But I know I can't. Things are too messed up. But it's not your fault. It was unfair of me to put so much pressure on you. I think I expect too much of people sometimes, you know, like sometimes I see them as more than what they are, and it takes away from both of us. And I'm sorry if I did that with you, because your friendship has always meant the world to me, and I fucked up too badly to ask for it back. _

_I hope you're okay. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. Take care of your sister. Take care of yourself. _

_Jordan_

* * *

_Dear Aline and Helen._

_So this is it, huh? I never wanted it to end the way it did with us. We were good friends who were able to have good times together and just not have to worry for any other shit for a while, you know? It's funny how one mistake can change an entire group dynamic. _

_The truth is, I'm not really leaving you behind if I haven't seen you in almost a year. You probably don't even care about me anymore, and I sure as hell thought I'd never care about you again. I still run into Jonathan sometimes. We don't talk much, but we have spoken enough that I know you and Helen will be fine. You have each other._

_I hope that life treats you both well, and even though you both know that I don't believe in all that afterlife shit, I hope that someday, we will meet again. I forgive you, Aline. I really do._

_Jordan_

* * *

_Hey, Jace._

_So I've been hella distant lately, hey? Damn, probably too soon to be making jokes, isn't it? Sorry, man. Leaving you behind was never my intention. _

_You probably want an explanation, right? The truth is I just couldn't take it anymore. That's the cold, hard, and rather blunt truth, my friend. It wasn't anything you'd done, or that the team themselves had done. The pressure and the stress built as we got better, and I felt like everyone was looking to the two of us. Everyone was expecting soccer to become my life, you know? But that wasn't the full story. We all have our inner demons, right? I guess mine were just a bit overbearing_

_You'll be okay, man. I know you try to act all tough and mighty, but I know that on the inside you're a complete softy. Remember that double date at the drive in? I saw you shed a tear when Jack died in _Titanic_. Don't worry, that will be our secret. You know, my friend Clary Fray very secretly loves that movie, too. You should get to know Clary. She has a few weird quirks, but she's a great friend. Lord knows there aren't enough of those in the world._

_Take care of yourself, Jace._

_Jordan_

* * *

_Clary, _

_I've been staring at this blank piece of paper for about 20 minutes. I always have so much to tell you, whether it's stuff I actually DO tell you—like the fact that the kid who sits next to me in math farted AGAIN, loudly, and it smelled, and he didn't apologize—or stuff I haven't actually told you (like how Maia and I broke up, which you probably know by now). _

_The truth is that, right now, you're my best friend. And I know that a best friend doesn't plan to get fucked up and maybe die without telling his best friend, but I'd like to pretend that I have no one to leave behind, because maybe I'll actually go through with it. If I survive, then I'm just the stupid drunken asshole everyone thinks I am, and I get grounded and yelled at, and you look at me with those eyes of yours, and I smile and say it'll never happen again, and that you don't need to worry, and that I love you. If I die, then I get to be happy. I think. Unless there's an afterlife. But that would suck. There are pros and cons to everything, right? _

_I guess I want to tell you this: this is not your fault. I know that probably doesn't help, but really, it's not. You're the one thing keeping me afloat, but it's just not enough. I'm sorry. It's my stupid, greedy brain, always wanting more than what it gets. I know you love me. I know you'd do anything for me. I hope you know I feel the same, and I always will. _

_I know that this thing I'm doing is terrible, but please, __please_ _find a way to be happy. You deserve it more than anyone I've ever met. _

_I love you so much. _

_Your homeboy, _

_Jordan_

* * *

_Let us know what you think! xo_


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